Star Wars: Ashes of Rebellion
by Ziggy StarFire
Summary: Post TLJ. After narrowly escaping Crait, what remains of the Resistance retreats to the planet of Naboo, where they attempt to regroup and rally allies in an effort to bring The First Order down. Rey takes the Falcon in search of a way to repair the Skywalker lightsaber. The Order, now under Kylo Ren, moves to subjugate the galaxy and eradicate any remaining opposition.
1. Chapter 1

Poe Dameron strode through the corridors of Theed's royal palace, Lieutenant Connix and Captain Namit half a step behind him. They and what remained of the Resistance fleet had arrived on the planet of Naboo just over a week ago aboard the _Millennium Falcon_. After escaping Crait, they had—at General Organa's insistence—attempted to transmit one last message to their allies for help. A response from Naboo came almost immediately, and they set course for the planet before the First Order could ascertain their whereabouts.

They were personally welcomed by the planet's ruler, Queen Sosha Soruna, but the warm reception was short-lived; hours after arriving, General Organa fell ill and all planned discussions of obtaining aid and establishing an alliance to counter the First Order were suspended.

The three slowed as they approached the private quarters Soruna had provided for the general. Commander D'Acy stood outside the doorway, several feet away from the four sentries that had been stationed there for security. Poe sensed her worry before even reaching her but was unsettled at how deeply it was etched on her face.

"Any change?" he asked.

"No," D'Acy breathed. "She's still in critical condition. The royal physicians think the sudden atmospheric change in our hasty evacuation from Crait to here, as well as the events that came before it, have taken a toll." She swallowed and set her blue eyes on Poe's.

Poe took a breath and, not knowing what else to do, set his hands to his hips. Leia was all that remained of their leadership and the very reason they hadn't engaged Soruna in talks about providing aid or making contact with other key allies. Aside from still being their commanding officer, she and Soruna were old friends. An overture to the queen on Leia's behalf would not only be brazen but also seemingly impertinent. But as much as Poe wanted to afford the general all the time she needed to recuperate, he knew every second counted. The longer that they waited, the more the Order's advantage over them grew.

 _Not that they don't already have a significant one_ , Poe thought cynically.

He looked up to see Soruna approaching with her attendants in tow. Clad in a vibrant red fitted silk gown laced with gold and wearing elaborate twin braids that crossed at her chest and ended at her torso, the queen's commanding presence was unlike anything Poe had ever encountered. When she had greeted them at the city's hangar, she had been wrapped in a white cloak with her hair tied back in tight bun. The only other detail he had noted at the time was how tall she was. Standing before her now, he took in her elegant stature and the calm, composed look in her deep brown eyes. He vaguely recalled the general telling him the queen had been a pilot in her youth and wondered what it would have been like to see her in action.

"Commander," she said to D'Acy with a nod. She turned towards Poe, Connix, and Namit. "Captains, Lieutenant."

"Your highness," they answered, bowing their heads.

With salutations now out of the way, Soruna's aged face took on a grave look. "As much as it pains me, I believe it may be time to begin discussing what's next for the Resistance, especially in terms of your leadership."

For a brief moment, the four Resistance members stood in silence. Poe glanced from Soruna to D'Acy and back to Soruna. "What are you—What is she talking about?" he asked D'Acy.

"It is extremely likely that Leia will not recover—"

"What are you saying?" Poe said, incredulous at what he was hearing. His captivation with the queen quickly left him, overtaken by a mixture of alarm and disbelief. "The woman was blown into outer space, flew back to the bridge door, and after a brief lie-down, got up, shot me with a stunner, and restored her command. And," he added, lifting a finger, "that was a dead shot."

"All of which," D'Acy calmly interjected, "may have contributed to her current state."

Poe swallowed. He looked back at Soruna. As angry as he was at the mere suggestion Leia could die, he couldn't ignore the serious look on her face. It mirrored the fear inside him he had been struggling to repress since their first day on Naboo. He rubbed his chin with his hand and exhaled slowly. "We've lost everyone else outrunning the First Order. We can't—"

He paused, closed his eyes briefly before opening them again. "We can't lose Leia."

D'Acy opened her mouth to speak just as the door to Leia's quarters opened. Everyone save the Nabooian guards turned to look at the doctor making his way out. He glanced at the three Resistance fighters, then to D'Acy and Soruna, his lips pressed tightly together.

Something tightened in Poe's chest. "Doc?" He was startled by the twinge in his own voice and even more so at the feeling of it echoing through him.

— — —

Rey's quarterstaff cut through the air, following the current of energy flowing between the grassy field beneath her and the azure sky above. Shortly after they had landed on Naboo and everyone had disembarked the _Falcon_ , she relocated the aged Corellian fighter to a wooded area outside of Theed. Although the Nabooian queen had assured her that the ship would be in excellent hands stationed inside the royal hangar, the starport's exposure left her uneasy. She also knew Chewie likely would not countenance any of the royal maintenance crew physically assessing the ship or performing repairs. At the very least, moving the _Falcon_ outside the city served to help protect the queen and her people, should the First Order discover their presence on the planet. And luckily for her, doing so had also allowed her to take in Naboo's landscape and provided her with a place to continue her training.

Rey moved from position to position, conscious only of the rhythm of energy around her. She had yet to attempt to repair the broken lightsaber. In truth, she wasn't entirely sure where to start. Despite her mechanical skills and her years scavenging on Jakku, the lightsaber was a technology unlike anything she had seen before. No piece of machinery or weapon's part was close to comparable. She had briefly considered taking it to Maz Kanata but then remembered Maz's castle on Takodana had been demolished by the First Order. Rey also wasn't entirely certain if Maz was even on the forest planet. Still, a part of her sensed the pirate queen, for all her years and knowledge of the galaxy, would be able to provide her with some guidance. The lightsaber had been in her possession, after all.

Rey turned on her heel, twisting around to bring the staff in front of her, and froze. Something had moved through her—no, around her?—and then dissipated. She had felt it in the briefest of seconds but recognized it almost immediately. It was nearly the same sensation she had felt days earlier before departing Crait.

"Leia," she whispered.

— — —

Rich purple cloth hung from the walls of the palace rotunda's side room, creating a muted ambiance without casting an overbearing sense of solemnity. In the center of the room sat an open casket atop an ornate catafalque, its bottom half covered with a velvet tapestry adorned with the Crest of Alderaan. Leia was just visible over its side, her aristocratic features as exquisite in death as in life.

"Are we sure this is a good idea, having her lying out publicly?" Finn asked. He turned to Poe. "No disrespect or anything, but this feels like an invitation for the First Order to swoop down and take over the planet."

"We don't have much of a choice," Poe answered. He wore a grim expression and his voice lacked its characteristic strength and confidence. "She was a public official and a princess. There's no way of hiding her death. But what we can do is take advantage of what little time we have. Soruna has ordered that no word about this leaves the palace until arrangements are completed." Poe swallowed the lump forming in his throat and continued. "Soruna has staged everything so that it appears the general arrived on Naboo with an attendant before her passing. The First Order will then be less concerned about tracking us down here, believing the two separated from us for Leia's sake."

"And exactly how is that going to work?" Rose asked softly. There was a wariness in her voice that Finn couldn't decide was dubiousness regarding the plan or if she was experiencing lingering pain from where she had crashed into him on Crait. For her part, Rose had recovered rather swiftly and surprisingly well. There were still small cuts on her face and at least one larger gash on her forehead from the impact, and she sustained a rib injury. Despite the Nabooian physician's insistence that she rest, she pulled herself out of bed the day before, having spent the days prior conscious but confined to the palace infirmary. She still moved slowly but quietly reveled in the freedom to move around.

"There were a number of transports and passenger ships that came in over the past few days," Poe answered. "The attendant Soruna designated was already listed on the manifest for one of these and—assuming the First Order will be gathering intel on incoming vessels—it will be easy to play it off that she accompanied Leia aboard one of the ship's earlier stopovers. The fact that the general's name doesn't appear on the same manifest won't arouse suspicion."

Finn nodded. "Because it was an unarmed ship and having her listed as a passenger would have easily exposed her."

"Exactly."

All three gazed at the former general. "What about us?" Rose asked, inhaling deeply.

"We're small in number and we came in on the _Falcon_ , which the Order can't track," Poe said. "As long as we lay low, the Order won't be tipped off to our presence."

"I hope you're right about that," Rose said. "I'm not sure the Order would believe that we wouldn't follow the general. Or come to retrieve the body."

Her words hung in the air, giving way to a mournful silence. Poe shut his eyes. Once the announcement was made, Leia would be prepared to lie in state before being laid to rest, something Soruna determined was more appropriate than the Nabooian tradition of cremation. As Leia's homeworld of Alderaan had been destroyed during the Galactic Civil War and having been largely mobile in the years that followed, her body would remain on Naboo. The First Order would, if all went according to plan, surveil the ceremony remotely and likely monitor the planet for incoming Resistance spacecraft. Rather than dwell on any deficiencies in the plan or devise a contingency strategy, however, Poe's mind grappled with the reality before him: that this would be the very last time he or any of them would ever lay eyes on the general again.

As much as he wanted to linger—perhaps imprudently waiting for Leia to suddenly revive as she had after the hit to the _Raddus_ 's main bridge—Poe knew doing so would be in vain and against Leia's wishes. He turned toward Finn and Rose. "She wouldn't want us standing here, mourning," he whispered before taking a deep breath. "We need to start planning before the First Order makes its move."

The two nodded silently in agreement. Without a backward glance, they filed out of the room, carrying an ache in their hearts despite themselves.

— — —

Rey waited until her three comrades were out of sight before approaching. She paused outside the doorway, glancing at the palace guards standing on both sides. Recognizing her as a member of the group that had arrived with the general, they allowed her to pass, much to her relief. Although she could easily manipulate their minds, she wasn't keen on doing so and preferred their silent acquiescence.

Despite the solemn air and stillness that filled the room, Rey felt calm. It surprised her somewhat that she was not as sad as she thought she would be. Perhaps Luke's passing mere days ago had something to do with it. Indeed, Leia departed much in the same way Luke had—softly and in peace. The only difference was that the sensation she felt on Crait had been greater while this one had been somewhat gentler. Leia, despite the last few days, had not suffered. Even now, lying in repose with her eyes shut, she looked serene.

 _We have everything we need_.

 _And that didn't include you, did it?_ Rey mused.

The air around her changed suddenly. She turned to see Kylo Ren standing in an empty room overlooking a hangar bay. Sensing the connection, Ren turned slightly to his right. His eyes locked with hers.

They stood silently, holding each other's gaze. _Had he felt it?_ Rey wondered. _Had he felt her passing?_

Ren turned the rest of his body toward her, and she saw his lips move slightly before he pressed them together. Whether he had felt it or had uncovered the truth in Rey's mind was unclear. She mentally chided herself for not properly shielding her thoughts and for allowing the connection to bridge in the first place, but managed to keep these two thoughts closed off.

The change in Ren's demeanor was apparent, and strangely, he didn't attempt to hide it. "She's gone" he said, his voice low.

It wasn't a question as much as it was a verbal confirmation. Rey tilted her head in a nod before quietly turning back to the body she knew Ren couldn't see.

"How?" he asked, not bothering to hide the sharp, urgent tone in his voice.

"What does it matter?" she said, snapping her head back to face him. "I thought you wanted to let the past die?"

Something changed in Ren's eyes. He cast them downward before Rey had a chance to determine exactly what but the thin press of his lips and the tightness around his mouth was noticeable. And almost as quickly as it came, the expression was gone, replaced by the impassive look he frequently wore. His eyes were focused on her own again.

"We'll be gone by the time the fleet gets here," she said flatly, answering a question she knew was already forming in his mind. She shifted her eyes back to the casket. "There's little point coming for us."

Ren didn't answer, but she felt the conflict of emotions within him. She knew his gaze was still on her but refused to look at him again.

"What will you do now?"

"What do you mean?" She replied softly.

"You have no leader. The fleet is decimated. The Order outnumbers the rebels completely. To continue to fight is senseless."

"You underestimate us."

"I suppose you're going to lead them?" The derisive tone of the question echoed across their connection, grating her nerves and causing her to surrender her resolve.

"And if I did?" she challenged, turning toward him. She could sense his anger rising in response and issued a wave of defiance to greet it. Ren's lip curled slightly, but he did not answer.

The connection ended a moment later. Rey's eyes considered the space he had occupied. Then slowly, she turned away, realigning herself with the stillness of the room. Leia's high cheekbones peaked over the edge of the casket, relaxed in eternal rest and seemingly suggesting that the body they belonged to was unmoved nor concerned with the conversation that had just occurred.

 _We have everything we need_ , Rey thought to herself. _You helped to ensure that_.

She turned to leave, glancing back once over her shoulder. It was likely her imagination or perhaps a change in the light, but she thought for a moment that she had seen a hint of a smile on the general's lips.


	2. Chapter 2

General Armitage Hux stood on the _Finalizer_ 's command bridge in the spot he generally delivered his reports to Supreme Leader Snoke. The Leader, however, was now dead, and the circumstances surrounding his demise not quite clear, though Hux had his own suspicions regarding the matter. The First Order's pursuit of the remaining Resistance fleet to Crait and his engineers' assessment that the extensive damage to the _Supremacy_ would cause the ship to combust at any moment had furthermore kept him preoccupied. Fortunately, all remaining personnel were able to evacuate on the Star Destroyers housed within the monolithic Dreadnought before it exploded. Hux knew he should have felt somewhat contented by this, but the sight of the halved flagship erupting into flames had left him quietly seething.

And on top of everything else, the rebels had escaped.

A lesser man would have lost all self-control over these developments. As tempting as it was to unleash his fury, he knew better than to succumb to impulse. Discipline and composure allowed for better calculation and a higher degree of respectability, which was more than one could say about anyone prone to throwing fits while wielding a laser sword.

The indignation of now having to report to Kylo Ren was an entirely different matter. Though Hux was less than thrilled at the new chain of command, he continually reminded himself that his allegiance was strictly to the First Order and that he was charged with ensuring that its objectives were met. The hierarchy as it currently stood was only a temporary setback, one he hoped to overcome relatively soon.

Gazing out of the Star Destroyer's expansive viewport, he suppressed a smile.

Ren appeared a moment later and made his way down the bridge toward the general. "Leader Ren," Hux said turning toward him. "We've just received some valuable intelligence. Our radars detected an increase in activity around the planet of Naboo. A number of inbound ships have entered the planet's atmosphere. According to our sources, General Organa landed on the planet several days ago. And it seems," Hux continued, a broad smile across his face, "that she is now dead."

If this news had any effect on Ren, he did not show it. Still grinning, Hux looked out the viewport again and set his eyes on the planet. "It seems the Nabooians are hosting a funeral for her. In Theed."

Ren's eyes followed Hux's, but he remained silent. Hux waited a moment before stealing a sideways glance. Was he hesitating? He had become so accustomed to Ren's impetuousness that seeing him suspended in passivity—however fleeting a moment it was—made Hux mildly anxious. Given Ren's behavior on Crait, he had expected an immediate raid and takeover of the planet in order to finally wipe out the rebel scum.

"Do we know whether the royal government is providing armed support and assistance to the rebels?" Ren asked after what seemed like an eternity.

Grateful for the break in the silence but no less apprehensive, Hux answered. "Nothing came up in the intel, but without a leader and considering the devastation to the Resistance fleet, it would be safe to assume that the survivors would seek refuge and aid."

Again, Ren did not answer. His eyes stayed fixed on the planet in contemplation. After another brief pause, he spoke. "Continue monitoring the situation. If anything comes through so much as hinting the rebels are receiving aid, I want to know about it." He turned and started to make his way back up the bridge. "In the meantime, disperse the Star Destroyers and prepare a proclamation ordering any planets that have yet to surrender to do so. Those that resist are to be taken by force and any opposition eradicated."

Hux stared after him. "Sir," he began, momentarily forgetting his aversion to showing the former apprentice any sign of respect or subservience, "is this wise? Should we at least send a reconnaissance team to—"

Ren turned suddenly, and the general immediately braced himself for the crushing chokehold he knew was coming. The dreaded vice grip never came, however—only a fixed gaze, the intensity of which not only gave Hux pause but also compelled him not to move. Ren advanced, his dark eyes glittering. "I do not want to waste time and resources tracking a gaggle of rebels that may not even be on that damned planet when we can finish taking control of the galaxy. I also do not want you to _ever_ question my judgement again."

Hux slowly tilted his head in a nod. "Yes, Leader."

As he watched Ren go, the senior officer's body slowly relaxed, save for the muscles in his jaw which remained tight. His alarm drained away, but a flood of anger and humiliation began to well up inside him and he struggled to keep his mind shielded from the retreating figure. He knew Ren would not hesitate to eliminate him for harboring the slightest bit of contempt, though considering their past interactions, Ren was likely more than aware of the general's animus toward him. It was out of self-preservation that Hux kept himself in check and more than vigilant around the man. _Discipline_ , he thought as he recomposed himself. He snapped his head around and, without acknowledging which lieutenant he was about to address, ordered that any new intel be processed and for the Destroyers to be deployed throughout the galaxy. The officer complied without looking up, as did the rest of the crew. No one dared look in his direction. The general inhaled deeply before turning his attention to the task at hand: seizing control of the galaxy once and for all.

— — —

Despite its antiquity and the political upheavals the planet had endured over the years, the royal palace's splendor had not faded. The ornate structure housed a seemingly endless number of chambers as well as grand stairways, picturesque balcony views, and a magnificent garden among other luxuries. Shortly before the outbreak of the Clone Wars and after Nabooians retook the city from the Trade Federation, a series of underground tunnels and passageways were constructed. Queen Soruna added her own enhancements over the years, one of which was installing security doors at various points throughout the underground system and programming them with double-lock codes that only select personnel and Royal Security Forces had access to. Additionally, the lock-pads were encrypted to prevent cybernetic overrides.

Soruna also had several hidden rooms constructed along tunnel walls. These were intended to serve as temporary shelters should the royal household need to hastily relocate without evacuating but doubled as war rooms for the queen to confer with her military strategists in the event the city came under siege. Recognizing the need to keep her guests out of sight as well as provide them with the necessary space to strategize, Soruna had several guards guide them through the tunnels to one of these rooms.

"The first thing we need to do is communicate with our allies," Poe said, "to let them know we made it off Crait." He was standing with his hand splayed out on the conference table before him, the only piece of furniture adorning the entire room. Portable communicators, monitors, and additional equipment remained in the palace's security division and were only relocated to the tunnels in the event of an emergency given the sensitive nature of the information relayed and retained on them. Though it was unlikely the subterranean system would be compromised by outside intruders, the palace took no chances; however, Soruna agreed that the crew could utilize these resources at some point should there be a need.

Barely two dozen of them had escaped from the mineral planet, and their insufficient number weighed heavily on Poe's mind. Looking at each of their faces now, it was all he could do to squelch the stream of panic running through him. The other pilots and crew members dispersed throughout the galaxy would hardly be enough to make up for the loss in their fleet. It was going to take a considerable amount of manpower and equipment before they would be ready to face the First Order again, and Poe wasn't entirely convinced any of their allies outside of Naboo would readily assist them.

"Soruna is planning to engage key diplomats and leaders visiting the planet and make a case for forming a militarized opposition to the First Order," he continued. "I was able to get an encrypted message out to our remote standbys using a comlink but ordered them to remain where they are. They won't be of any use to us if the First Order detects them approaching.

"That said, our time is running out," he continued. "The First Order is going to declare sovereignty over the galaxy and force planets into surrendering soon before anyone has the chance to mobilize."

Lieutenant Connix stepped forward. "The annihilation of Hosnian Prime is likely known throughout the star systems by now. That level of aggression may be enough justification for any planet threatened by the Order to assist us or form a coalition."

Poe nodded just as Finn spoke up from across the room. "Yes, but how many of those are there? And do they have the resources? I'm not feeling too confident there considering no one responded to our distress signals."

"We don't know why no one responded," Poe said, fighting down his own pessimism. He straightened before continuing. "But not at least attempting to engage with our allies is certain defeat. We have to make them realize that the First Order is a credible threat that will upend existence throughout the galaxy the same way the Galactic Empire did. Now while we can't make direct contact with Hux and his goons likely monitoring the planet, we can at least identify those likely to take up the fight and plan accordingly."

There was a collective nod. "Right," Poe said. He turned his attention to Commander D'Acy. "Commander, you know more about Soruna's plan than the rest of us."

D'Acy nodded and moved to stand beside Poe. "While the circumstances for which we are all here are unfortunate, Queen Soruna deigns it an appropriate guise for discussing how to counter the threat that the First Order imposes. She has already made arrangements to meet privately with leaders who are paying their last respects, including representatives from Devaron, Sullust, and Corellia. It is Soruna's hope as well as ours that an alliance can be formed and worlds can mobilize local forces sanctioned under the Military Disarmament Act. In addition, Soruna will propose a plan for acquiring starfighters, armaments, surface vehicles, and any other necessary equipment. However, she suspects divisions over how to finance these and is encouraging us to locate any Rebel Alliance equipment we can."

"That is going to prove somewhat difficult," Captain Namit said. "Most of what was salvageable from the old rebel fleet was already incorporated into our own. There are a few abandoned Alliance bases in the Outer Rim that haven't been accessed, but it's more than likely any craft or equipment will be in a similar condition to what was on Crait."

"It's worth a shot," Poe said. "The fighters may be worthless, but even if we find blasters, we'll be slightly better off."

"This brings me to my next point," D'Acy said. "There are a number of decentralized systems currently retaining a neutral status or governed by councils that lean toward maintaining independence. Few if any of them will have a representative en route to Naboo, but those are the systems we need to align with us. Bespin, Bothawui, Mandalore, Eredenn Prime—these are just a few." D'Acy took a breath. "I think it would be in our best interest to undertake missions to try to enlist help from these systems and align them against the First Order."

"How do you propose we do that?" Finn asked. "Take the _Falcon_ around and go knocking door to door?"

Rose punched Finn's arm and gave him a dirty look. He flinched and turned toward her. "I'm just asking, okay?" he said in a loud whisper. The Resistance tech did not respond.

"The queen has offered to outfit each of us with a craft, a few of which are older T-65s from the Battle of Naboo," D'Acy answered.

"Each of us?" Rose asked, her eyes widening.

D'Acy nodded. "It would be a covert operation, and separating would increase our chances at maintaining our current number." She said this with a sad look, as if suddenly remembering the terrible events of the last few days.

Poe sighed. "This is probably going to be our best option. There's no point rallying on this planet, especially in close proximity to the First Order's fleet." He looked around at each of their faces. Despite the shared look of resolve, he could see a shadow of weariness in their eyes. He felt a stab of pain but also a renewed sense of determination. "We can dispatch our standby pilots as well once we've settled on who's going where. We also need to establish a new base in one of the old ones. We can't militarize on Naboo and endanger the life here."

Everyone agreed. D'Acy brought her arms behind her back and spoke again. "There is one other thing that needs to be addressed." All eyes shifted from Poe to her while her own gaze settled on the pilot. "Soruna feels that a commanding officer should be present at the conference to help make the case for countering the Order. Given our numbers—"

"Or lack of," Finn muttered before receiving another punch to the arm from Rose.

"And the regrettable loss of General Organa," D'Acy said, ignoring Finn, "it logically falls to the next in line in the chain of command to attend."

Although Poe was listening, it took another few seconds for him to fully process what D'Acy had said. He looked from her to his fellow rebels, all of whom now had their eyes on him.

"Commander," D'Acy said. A small smile replaced the look of sorrow she wore a moment ago.

Poe held up a finger. "Captain," he corrected.

D'Acy's smile widened. "You more than proved yourself on Crait. General Organa—Leia—saw that."

Poe looked at them all again. There was no trace of dissent on anyone's face nor a curl of displeasure on anyone's lips. The shadow of enervation he had seen a moment ago was gone, replaced with something resembling optimism—no, he thought, something greater.

Hope _._

Poe swallowed. A small part of him knew he should be feeling a sense of pride at this development, but he couldn't ignore the reality of the situation. He had always revered Leia, even when they had been at odds with one another. The idea of succeeding her in commanding the Resistance was never something he aspired to or ever conceived of. It went against every aspiration he had for their success.

 _Keep the spark alive._

Yes, he thought in answer. He had said as much on Crait, and looking at the faces gathered around him in the underground room, he could see the spark's glow expand and brighten. They were the galaxy's last hope—the spark that would ignite the flame. Leia wouldn't want them to give up, not until the First Order had cut every single one of them down.

"General Organa saw a lot of things," he said slowly, "in each and every one of us. Our skills, our passion, and most of all, our resilience. That's why we were recruited. That's why we serve. And that's why we are still here today. It wasn't just me—it was all of us, and it will remain all of us. I can't promise anything or give you any expectations, except that I will fight until the end, even if I have to lay down my own life so that you can keep the spark alive." Poe looked at D'Acy. "Tell Soruna I'll be present."

The smile the commander gave Poe was small but proud. She nodded and turned to leave the room.

"Okay," Poe said, letting out a breath. "Let's get to work."

Rather than immediately issuing mission assignments, Poe determined it best to wait until after conferring with Soruna and the planetary leaders to see who would be lending their support. "Plus," he added, "we need to see what craft we're being given and in what condition. If possible, I'd like to send everyone out in teams of two, but I'm not going to impose on Naboo's generosity. We still have _The Falcon_ ," he said with a quick glance toward Rey, "so that gives us one advantage."

Rey didn't reply. The truth was she had other plans. After assessing the lightsaber further, she was able to determine the two cylindrical pieces within it needed to be replaced, along with the circuits which were completely shot. There also seemed to be a missing component, thought what it was remained a mystery to her. That time was not on their side didn't help matters, given that an attack from the First Order was imminent. She knew as far as the Order itself was concerned, combat would be restricted to machine battle, whether in the atmosphere or on the ground. Kylo Ren on the other hand would want to face her in person, and for that, she would need to be ready.

"Until we get a better understanding of how much and what kind of support we're getting, we can focus on relocating to one of the old rebel bases."

A pilot named C'ai Threnalli spoke up. "The R2 unit should have a map stored in its memory among all the other Rebel Alliance data."

"I like your thinking, C'ai," Poe said. "R2, can you pull that up for us?"

The droid answered with a string of acquiescent beeps before moving to the opposite side of the room. A moment later, a map of the galaxy appeared dotted with green orbs designating rebel strongholds from the Galactic Civil War.

With everyone's attention focused on the map, Rey took the opportunity to slip out. The guards that had accompanied them were still in the corridor, though it appeared from their number that one had escorted D'Acy above ground. Her sudden presence elicited no reaction, however. Moving past them, she continued down the tunnel in the direction from which they came. She had no intention of leaving the planet immediately and without notice; she was merely extricating herself from a strategic calculation she already knew she wasn't (at least in the short run) a part of.

She did not get far before she heard something behind her. She turned to see Finn walking toward her with Rose close behind.

"Rey," he said as he approached. The expression on his face was a mixture of concern and confusion, emphasized by the look in his dark eyes.

"I have to leave," she said. "There are some things that I have to take care of."

"You're going alone?" Rose asked.

Rey shook her head. "Chewie will be with me." It occurred to her as she answered that even if she did plan to go alone, the Wookiee would likely have none of it; the _Falcon_ was as much his as it was Han Solo's and she imagined that allowing her to take the Corellian fighter and leave him behind was something Chewbacca wouldn't countenance, to say the least. "I will rejoin you all, but I can't be a part of this mission. I'm sorry," she added, looking at Finn.

"Rey, you can't leave now," Finn said in protest. "Where the hell are you going to go?"

As much as Rey wanted to explain, she knew they couldn't understand. In addition to tracking down Maz, there was somewhere else she needed to go. The night she left Leia, she had gone back to the _Falcon_ and meditated in the ship's main hold. While adrift in the silence and vastness of the Force-filled universe, she had heard a whisper: _Dagobah._ The decision was made then, and she didn't question it. She would go there as soon as she could make it off Naboo. But allowing herself to be guided to the Dagobah system amidst a brewing war was something she knew would be deemed an act of lunacy as well as reckless.

"Finn, I have to do this," she said. "Trust me."

Finn stared at her silently. Then, slowly, he extended his right arm toward her, his elbow pointing down with his palm open. Without hesitating, Rey mirrored the movement, grasping his hand in hers. There they stood as comrades in arms, silently acknowledging the difficulties ahead and the uncertain future that awaited them both but nonetheless wishing the other the best.

"It's not as if you need me anyway," Rey said glancing at Rose. "Not with Rose looking after you."

The former mechanic smiled in return. Finn chuckled softly. "A man tries to be a hero _one_ time..."

"Save it," Rose laughed, her eyes meeting his.


	3. Chapter 3

_So it is true._

Kylo Ren let out a ragged breath. He had not believed it at first—couldn't, in fact. He had not felt it. Why had he not felt it? Was it possible that she had closed herself off to him in her final moments?

No, he thought. Even if she had the ability to, he knew she would not have. They had always had a special connection. There were times during his training when he had felt her across the galaxy. He had occasionally felt her roiling through various emotions after he joined the First Order and even a few weak attempts to reach out to him. An image of the Resistance cruiser flashed in his mind. He had sensed her then, and she him. But she had not called out to him, not pleaded, not emanated any beseeching emotion or demonstrated fear. She had only waited, giving him her quiet attention as he hovered overhead with his fingers poised on the TIE silencer's triggers. He could feel them even now as well as the tension that had radiated through his hands and body in that one moment.

A sense of shame rose up inside him and he swallowed hard. Had she felt it then? The desire to kill her? The indecision that followed? The turmoil inside him?

The ship's bridge had been torn apart a moment later by a shot from one of the TIE fighters. All had gone quiet, and indeed he had thought her dead then, even if his senses had told him otherwise. Learning she had been on and escaped the mineral planet Crait hadn't surprised him. His focus had been concentrated on Skywalker. It occurred to him that she hadn't attempted to reach out then, possibly aware of her own failing health. Or possibly because she had accepted that he was truly lost to her.

Ren wiped a hand over his face, barely conscious of the dampness that came away with it. He tried to steady himself. Reasserting control would allow him to turn his thoughts into weapons and empower him once again. His father's face floated into view. How many times over the last few weeks had he thought of those hazel eyes? Or did they seek him out, as if needlessly reminding him of what he had done. The memory of their last encounter replayed in his mind. The lightsaber piercing the older man's chest. The aged hand reaching out and cupping Ren's cheek. The body slowly moving backward before falling into the depths below. The sickening reality sinking in.

He knew that the look in his father's eyes in the last moment they stood together, just after the saber had cut through the older man, would plague him all his life. Perhaps if it had been one of disgust or hate, it would have been easier to forget. Instead, it had been one of love and forgiveness.

Ren walked the length of his chambers, resigning himself to the futility in trying to twist his own thoughts. Killing Snoke had freed his mind of influence but did little to quell the conflict within him. It was unlikely anyone among the rank and file of the First Order would ever perceive it, but there was one person in the galaxy who could.

 _Rey._

An image of her formed in his mind and he felt his pulse quicken. That the connection between them still existed perplexed him. He assumed after seeing her on Crait that it had been severed. Their last connection had consequently caught him off guard, and the subsequent revelation about his mother only disconcerted him further.

The way forward was unclear. Could he kill her? He took his lightsaber from his belt and held it in his hands, considering. He thought of his mother and the passivity she had shown. He recalled his own hesitancy and how he had cursed himself afterward. His skin began to prickle, no doubt in response to the anguish inside him. Ren shook his head slightly. No, he couldn't do it. But could she? The possibility hadn't crossed his mind, not even during their first battle.

Self-preservation was a mechanism that necessitated the elimination of one's enemy in order to survive. It's what Snoke would argue, and did, for why she should be destroyed, telling Ren that she would do the same if given the opportunity. But she had the chance already, twice in fact: once on Starkiller Base after cutting him with the lightsaber and again while he lay unconscious on the _Supremacy_. She had spared him both times.

 _But would she again?_

He thought of the sadness in her eyes aboard the flagship after he had asked her to join him, the strain of her voice as she struggled to answer: "Don't do this, Ben. Please don't go this way." His mind shifted to their connection on Crait and the look she had given him through the bond. It had been entirely different. Though it lacked the hostility and furiousness she had shown in their first encounters, it was no less severe. He knew it for what it was: frustration, resignation, disappointment. But not a murderous intent.

He looked down at the lightsaber. She couldn't, he decided. Or at the very least, she would avoid doing so. If and when the time came, she would hesitate, grant him one last chance to renounce the Dark Side. She herself would not embrace it. She made that clear to him. Her decision was made.

Ren drew a breath and looked up. It was up to him then. He would have to lead them out of this impasse.

— — —

Rey knew Dagobah was a marsh planet. She did not, however, expect it to be a literal bog dominated by swamp creatures and void of any form of civilization. The readout she viewed prior to leaving Naboo had been very brief, noting only rainfall totals, the general terrain (a complete understatement), and orbital period in addition to the planet's coordinates. Seeing the dense, fetid, and seemingly endless morass, she understood why the record was so sparse on details: there was nothing more to add, or at least nothing that wouldn't render it superfluous.

Unlike Takodana and its vibrant greenery, Dagobah was replete with various shades of putrefaction dotted by a never-ending stream of foggy mist rolling off the water. It was a wonder she and Chewie had even found someplace to land the ship. And though the air was breathable, it oozed of humidity, leaving Rey feeling as if she were inescapably wrapped in a damp shroud.

Chewie had, rather wisely, decided to stay on the _Falcon_. Rey wondered if he knew beforehand the miasmic wonders that awaited them here or if he made the decision during their descent. But the Wookiee had no reason to trek around the wetland planet. Rey wasn't entirely sure she had a valid reason herself. Given that the planet was uninhabitable to anything save the vegetation and primitive species currently thriving on it, she doubted the likelihood of encountering anyone.

Rey gripped her quarterstaff in her left hand. No sense in just standing here, she thought. She angled the staff downward and carefully began making her way across the swampy terrain, holding her right arm out to steady herself as needed.

The ground was surprisingly firm, though riddled with rocks and knotted tree roots. The dense fog didn't make navigating any easier, nor did the vines dangling from above. Jakku may be an endless sea of sand but at least it is walkable, Rey thought. It also has more light. Here the trees stretched upward, creating an extensive canopy that shadowed the world beneath. It was hard not to feel a sense of gloom and despair. _Though_ , she though, _the same could be said of Jakku._ She looked up at one point and saw the shadow of a winged creature flying overhead. Despite feeling unthreatened, she hoped its nest was nowhere along her path.

She reached out to grab hold of one of the vines in order to sidestep a shallow pond, catching its subtle movement mere seconds before wrapping her fingers around it. She wrenched her hand back and fought to maintain her balance. The swamp snake, unperturbed, resumed its leisurely suspension from the branches above. Rey steadied herself and took a breath before glancing around to ensure none of its brethren had likewise camouflaged themselves in proximity to her. After determining the lifelessness of a nearby vine, she took hold and maneuvered herself around the pond.

She had no idea how much time had passed or how far she had gone, but there were fewer pools of water around her and the fog had lessened. An ancient gnarled tree weighed down by carpets of gray vegetation stood just ahead. She walked toward it and placed a hand on its trunk before looking down to assess the state of her boots. The soles were muddied from a few damp depressions but not terribly so, and the gorvath wool, rather than cause her discomfort, had managed to prevent the muggy air from seeping in.

She scraped what she could off on one of the tree's roots before straightening, catching a faint noise as she came up. She stiffened, listening intently past the chirps and deep bellows of the swamp creatures. The sound was nearly indistinct—a soft murmur that carried an almost familiar femininity in it, intertwined with the gentle intonations of a male voice. Rey swiveled her head, trying to determine where it was coming from. The noise of the swamp planet died away, leaving only the echoing of the whispers. A child's laughter rang out, followed by chuckles. Rey swallowed. The murmurs continued, more serious now. A low whimper reached her ears, followed by a choked sob, and finally an anguished cry.

" _Come back!"_

The words rang and rang for what seemed like an eternity. And then—

Silence.

Rey felt herself gasp. A tight knot had formed in her chest, and she suddenly became aware of her ragged breathing. Steadying herself, she tried to reach out. There was no answer—not a sound, not a sense.

"I don't understand," she whispered.

"Did you think you'd find answers here?"

Rey turned to find the grizzled face of Luke Skywalker staring back at her. She was strangely unfazed by his presence, too lost in her own mind grappling with the thoughts now present there and trying to divine their meaning.

"Is the Force doing this?" The words came out soft and slow, carrying with them a sense of uncertainty if not apprehension. "Manifesting these voices? The same way…the same way it connects Kylo and me?"

"Is it Kylo now?" Luke asked, bemused.

Rey brought her lips together but didn't answer. Luke began to amble forward in his shabby robes, casting an ethereal glow in the swampy dimness. He looked up at the tree. "I, too, came here looking for answers and guidance a long time ago," he said, forgetting his questions and their answers, "only to be met by my greatest fear, as was the Jedi master before me."

Rey remained silent, but in her mind she found herself descending once again into the cavern beneath Ahch-To. Down, down, down. Down into the cold, isolated depths. Into the darkness.

The cavern wall flashed before her eyes. She could see the indistinct shapes in the hard rock moving toward her, feel the swell of her own anticipation followed by an all-encompassing ache at the sight of her own reflection.

 _You already know the truth._

She had always known the truth. She had known it and yet it had been too much to bear, too difficult to understand, too painful to live with. And so she had buried it, forced herself to forget it in exchange for a new truth—that is, until she had been forced to confront it.

She looked up to see Luke's ghost-like eyes studying her. "I have already acknowledged my fear," she said evenly. She could not, however, suppress the feeling of dread mounting inside her nor the small quiver it left on her lip.

"You have," he answered, his blue eyes fixed on hers. "But you're still carrying it around with you."

The ache in her chest grew. Luke continued. "It's more than just who they were, Rey. It's what you have been hiding from yourself about them."

She exhaled slowly, shutting her eyes as she did so. A silence lingered between them, and in the back of her mind she was dimly aware of the hush from the swamp, as if they had been removed from its plane of existence. Perhaps they had, she thought faintly.

"I kept waiting for them to come back," she whispered.

They were on a small cruiser. It was a special trip, he had said, and she remembered smiling, remembered laughing—though at what she couldn't recall. Time fragmented and then there was the brilliant sun over the swath of barren land, so vast, endless. She marveled at it, believing it stretched forever. And then she felt the grubby hand on her arm while a softer one touched her cheek. Dark eyes hovered before her accompanied by gentle words: Be good, they had said. Do as your told. Stay here. Confusion, a growing sense of alarm. Shadows retreating across the sand, her struggling after them. Calling out, pleading.

The eyes that never glanced back.

The figures that never stopped or turned.

The words that still haunted her.

 _Stay here._

"I wanted to believe that they would come back for me." Rey said. Her eyes were open now, holding Luke's gaze. She could feel the tears seeping from their corners, dampening her cheeks. "I convinced myself that somewhere in my mother's last words to me, she had promised to."

Luke's face was expressionless, but there was a gentleness in the words he spoke. "You never gave up hope that she would," he said softly. He paused before adding, "But in hoping, you clung to a falsehood.

"The Jedi believed that attachments were dangerous. That they created a fear, and the fear of losing one's attachments leads to the Dark Side. They believed that one had to be taught over time to overcome this fear of loss so as to fully trust in the Force. Blocking out memories and deceiving yourself into believing falsehoods can make one unstable. You have to balance your mind so that you have clear thoughts. A balance of the mind allows for the balance of the Force. The Jedi, in trying to prevent attachments to people, possessions, even the past, aimed to promote devotion to the Order, but such asceticism neglects one's humanity. That was a failing of the Order." There was a tinge of sadness in his voice as he said this, but it was swiftly replaced by a calm and firmness in the words that followed. "Rey, you have to accept your past so that you can stay present, so that your mind can find peace, and so that you can ensure you are never tempted to the Dark Side."

"The final lesson," Rey breathed.

"Slightly revised," Luke said, quirking his mouth slightly, "but yes. As promised."

The two stood quietly facing each other as a slow realization dawned on Rey. "The Code," she said, remembering a line from one of the ancient texts housed in the _Falcon_. "'There is no emotion, there is peace.'"

The Jedi ghost nodded. "Because when you accept your past, your mind is not in turmoil," Luke said. "And there is no ignorance because there is knowledge—you do not deceive yourself into believing something you know to be untrue."

Rey considered this silently. "What about Ben?" she asked a moment later.

"What about him?"

"He was manipulated by Snoke. He believes something about himself, his past, that is inherently false. If he were to come to terms with it…" she said, her voice trailing off.

"That is not for me to answer," Luke explained. "And it's a decision that you can't make. Ben will have to decide for himself."


	4. Chapter 4

Poe couldn't remember the last time he was this nervous. During the D'Quar evacuation and the series of events that followed, he had at times felt worried, distressed, and even terrified. But meeting with galactic leaders knowing whatever happened today would surely determine the fate of not only the Resistance but also the entire galaxy put him in a completely different emotional state. High stakes weren't new to him, but in previous situations he only had to jump into his T-70 and start blasting his way to a solution. That wasn't an option this time. Instead he had to play the role of diplomat, a part he felt woefully unprepared for.

He fastened a gray belt around his waist. It was part of a New Republic dress uniform Soruna had secured for him, though where from and how he did not know. As much as he would have preferred to stay in his leather pilot jacket and fatigues, he agreed with Soruna that more appropriate attire was needed. The uniform had been designed in the early years of the New Republic but was not favored by officers and rarely worn, even on the occasions it was designed for. The fitted black bodysuit wasn't something Poe was used to, and the red band that ran along the left hem of the white v-neck jacket was an adornment he could do without. He also found the prominent placement of the rank badge (he had managed to hold on to his even after Leia demoted him) irksome. On a Resistance uniform, the rank insignia sat further to the left; on this uniform, it rested along the red hem where it couldn't be missed—an apparent show of pageantry that rankled Poe. The black boots were the only part of the ensemble he didn't mind. His own were scuffed and worn from age and action. These that Soruna had provided him were new and sturdy, and after putting them on Poe allowed himself a moment to revel in the snug comfort they provided before focusing once more on the task ahead.

Rey's abrupt departure didn't help matters, nor was her unwillingness to disclose _why_. Instead she gave Poe assurances that her mission would bolster their chances against the Order if successful and that she would return regardless. This did little to alleviate Poe's uneasiness, however; he desperately needed every single one of them who made it off Crait. They were all that were left of the Resistance and they knew the extent of the threat the First Order imposed more than any of the recruits Poe hoped to gain ever would. But then he remembered that Rey technically wasn't part of the Resistance paramilitary. She had been thrown into the middle of a conflict due to circumstances beyond her control and was aiding them in order to protect the galaxy. That she had provided notice at all was a sign of respect, and Poe would have been remiss to not reciprocate or acknowledge her agency.

He exited the chambers provided for him and followed the palace guards to the Jafan Room, which Poe learned had been used for private receptions by every ruler since the palace was built. They were only a few yards away when Soruna appeared, clad in elegant gold robes with sashes of black—a subtle reminder that the galaxy was still in mourning. Her hair was braided, pulled back, and covered in a matching gold headdress, though one notably simpler than some Poe had seen her wear. She was accompanied by her attendants, all of whom were wearing similar robes with complementing headscarves.

"Ready, Commander Dameron?" Soruna asked.

Poe nodded and followed her in, the attendants and royal guards close behind.

Like most of the rooms in the palace, the Jafan Room had a vast gilded interior complete with vaulted ceilings. A long, elegant table sat in the middle of the room surrounded by intricately designed high-backed chairs. Their occupants turned toward them before standing as Soruna made her way to the head of the table, Poe several steps behind her. She didn't immediately seat herself but turned to smile in greeting at everyone present. The smile was returned with a respectful nod.

Soruna gestured for everyone to be seated. Turning to Poe, she extended her arm to the seat next to her. Poe took it, noticing as he did that her chair was no different from the others; the backrest and crest rail provided no additional height and lacked any ornamentation designating her role as the planet's sovereign. He realized that this was intentional, a way of signaling parity among the dignitaries. Soruna was subtly setting a tone for this assembly, one that was both diplomatic and likely to yield results.

Poe made a mental note to never play her in a game of dejarik. 

"My friends," Soruna said. "Thank you for coming. I cannot overstate my grief for my old friend, Leia Organa, and I hope that I am right in saying that sorrow is shared amongst us all. But we find ourselves in a time of true crisis, and time spent mourning is time lost and freedom usurped. 

"Commander Dameron," She continued, turning her head briefly in his direction, "has joined us at my invitation. He and what remains of the Resistance are all that is standing in the way of the galaxy's subjugation by the First Order. I don't need to remind you of the tyranny and unrest wrought under the Galactic Regime thirty years ago. This threat went ignored for too long. We must act and act now."

"Commander," she said, gesturing to him before seating herself.

Poe stood, bowing his head slightly at Soruna as he did. "Thank you, your highness," he said. He then turned and looked out over the table, his eyes meeting all of those patiently waiting for him to speak. "I don't need to impress upon any of you the gravity of the situation we find ourselves in. You have all seen the annihilation of Hosnian Prime. You know exactly what the First Order is capable of. And you know it's far worse than anything the Galactic Empire could ever have hoped to have achieved.

"I am one of less than two dozen survivors," he continued. "The Order has wiped out our leadership, and what few weapons we possess are outdated and ineffectual. But the war isn't over, and the Resistance is anything but dead. In our darkest hour, we still had hope. And that hope is the only reason I am standing in front of you all now.

"As resilient as we are, the Resistance is not enough to fend off the Order. But we also aren't alone in our determination and indomitable will. Those are borne by every sentient being in our galaxy, every creature that has known or craved liberty and peace—those who you represent. Hope still exists. It's why you are all here today.

"Unifying behind our shared hope is what is going to defeat the Order. It's what is going to ensure the galaxy's freedom from tyranny. It's what is going to win this war."

He looked to Soruna. "Queen Soruna had it wrong. My crew and I are not standing in the way of a complete takeover of the galaxy: all of you and the choice you make today are."

The room was silent. Poe's eyes moved from one dignitary to the next. Inwardly, he marveled at their calm demeanor, but he was also trying in vain to decipher their passive expressions. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, a voice broke the silence. 

"Rest assure, Commander," said a Twi'lek in his native tongue, "the direness of this reality is not lost on me. The Empire devastated my planet, Ryloth. My people struggled for years to regain independence, and even after we suffered hardship. We saw the threat the First Order imposed when your general brought it before the Galactic Senate. My brother, Yendor, swore allegiance to the Resistance then, and though he may be gone, our commitment to the cause has not changed."

Poe nodded towards the Twi'lek. "Thank you...I'm sorry, we haven't been introduced to one another."

"Matal," he said, nodding back to Poe. "The pleasure is mine, Commander."

"Thank you for your words and for your support."

An older man sitting across from Matal cleared his throat. Soruna glanced in his direction. "Emissary Rum'sia of Akiva," she announced.

"I saw the Hosnian cataclysm broadcasted on the HoloNet. I cannot express the depth of my despair and the fear for my people on Akiva. I pledged our support to the New Republic at the moment we joined it. I am bound by honor and loyalty and the principles of free and peaceful governance to support the Resistance and oppose The First Order."

"Thank you, sir," Poe said before addressing the others. "I have to stress that there is little time. I know you are all concerned about your homeworlds, but the First Order has incalculable resources and untold legions in the Unknown parts of wild space. We have to act and very soon."

A female Naka spoke. "Commander Poe, I am head of council from Abafar. We are relatively smaller compared to some of your populations," she said, glancing around as she did. "We had no representation on Hosnian Prime. That said, I am not willing to risk the livelihoods and futures of my people by _not_ acting. I stand with you, Commander."

"Thank you," Poe said, with a nod and irrepressible smile. "Your support is crucial, no matter the scope of your defenses." The Naka smiled at Poe and Soruna, who returned the smile with a nod.

"We on Orish also stand with you," said the Orishen emissary. "To defend ourselves at the expense of the galaxy only to fall to the First Order is imprudent let alone callous to all of you and to those not present here today. I will redirect our task force's efforts to align with your forces, Commander Poe, and see to it that any volunteers with prior military training can enlist as soon as possible."

Poe's heart began to soar. It was just as Connix had predicted—they were unifying in response to one atrocity in order to avert a host of others and, moreover, preclude a reign of oppression with no foreseeable end.

The spark was alive.

A warbling voice to his right interrupted his thoughts. A Kage female was addressing him. "I admire what you are doing. But I cannot agree to this. I cannot, in all good consciousness, sacrifice my people for either side. If the Order does assume control of the galaxy, I would rather it be a bloodless endeavor."

"Bloodless?" Matal cried. The Kage turned toward him. "Lives have already been sacrificed and lost, many civilian. Inaction grounded in a fallacy is most certainly a guarantee that more blood will be spilled."

"Not if we approach this prudently," she replied. "I share the desire for peace, but threats and aggression will only create more animosity and violence."

"You mean negotiate?" the Orish emissary asked, astonished.

"There is no negotiating," Poe interjected, sensing the meeting was about to devolve into verbal chaos. "There is no compromising. The First Order wants one thing and one thing only and that is to reestablish imperial rule at any cost and to ensure that rule is maintained."

The Kage let out a small sigh, blinking her pink-red eyes as she did. They held no contempt, only a sadness for the circumstances their owner and all present found themselves in.

Soruna pursed her lips but did not speak. The Akiva emissary spoke again. "For those of us willing to assist," he said, cutting his eyes down the table and then back at Poe, "How do you plan to make use of the resources we provide?"

"Soruna has graciously lent my team spacecraft to help us scout out rebel bases and recover any salvageable weaponry and equipment. It's unlikely we'll find a trove of usable craft and armaments, and even if we did, we would still be lacking manpower. Look," Poe said, pausing for a moment after, "I know whatever any of you are able to provide is negligible compared to what the First Order has. But wars aren't won on force alone. The Rebel Alliance was relatively small and yet still brought down the Empire. We need people, but more than that, we need people who believe in the cause—who still have the power to hope and act on that hope."

There was an exchange of glances around the room. The soaring feeling Poe had in chest a moment ago gave way to mild palpitations. He suddenly wondered if he had overdone it. But then he saw Rum'sia nod. "I don't think you'll be troubled for volunteers, Commander. For good measure though, I will see to it that you receive funds for new machinery."

"Thank you," Poe breathed. "Thank you."

By the end of the meeting, nearly everyone present gave assurances that they would support the Resistance's opposition and would work diligently and urgently with their homeworld governments to send fighters, technicians, weaponry, and whatever else they could. Several expressed dismay over the First Order's actions but refused to be involved, the Kage included.

Poe, in order to bolster his diplomatic standing, shook hands and spoke with each emissary as they made their way out of the room. Once it had emptied, Soruna swept across the hall toward him, her attendants in tow. 

"That went better than I expected," Poe said, trying to suppress his excitement.

"It fell considerably short of my expectations," Soruna said dryly. The two exited the room and fell into step in the corridor. "Then again, I am considerably high minded. At least Rum'sia offered to assist with outfitting the new fleet with ships.

"I fear, however, that what little time we do have might not be enough," she continued. "The First Order's takeover is imminent, and we may well be struggling against an imperial sovereignty after the fact. Had the New Republic responded to the Order as a rising threat sooner, none of this would be happening."

Poe opened his mouth to reply just as one of Soruna's military advisors approached, flanked by several guards. "Your Highness," the Gungan said. "I've just been briefed on a broadcast over the HoloNet. The Order has demanded all nonaligned and Republic-aligned systems surrender immediately."

"Of course they have," Poe said.

"What else?" Soruna demanded. From the tone of her voice, Poe knew she didn't see that First Order's proclamation as a hollow threat.

"Non-compliant systems and planets will be annihilated."

"How very diplomatic," she said dryly.

"Let's hope the crew has made some headway," Poe said.

— — —

Finn stared out of the cockpit window at the tunnel of stars surrounding them. He was no stranger to hyperspace jumps, but he suddenly found himself entranced by such travel. It seemed almost surreal that one could cut through space and time, outstripping the speed of light and rendering the stars bystanders.

He briefly considered sharing his thoughts with Rose before dismissing the idea. While not a pilot, Rose had significantly more skill and experience with flying starships than he did, which was one reason why Poe had agreed to let them undertake the mission together. Her continued recovery was another. Privately, Finn hadn't been keen on the idea of her accompanying another member of the Resistance or of her staying on Naboo. Reason told him she would be in good care either way, but reason was no match for the staunchly protective nature of his person. They had been through a lot together: a desertion attempt and a heavy jolt from her stunner; a secret eleventh-hour mission; police custody and a subsequent police chase; conspiring with a criminal to infiltrate the enemy; capture, escape, and a nearly-hopeless land battle to fend of The First Order in which Rose nearly died in order to save him. To leave her behind or entrust her in another person's care was something he couldn't bring himself to do. He knew this sentiment was not lost on the rest of the crew or even on Rose. He was also aware of the shift that had taken place; where he had once sought to ensure Rey's safety, he was now focused on safeguarding Rose. Rey had made it clear, both in her words and her actions, that she didn't need rescuing. Rose may not need it either, but he didn't want to take that chance.

They hadn't spoken about what happened on Crait. Finn wasn't sure there was a need to. She had assured him after she regained consciousness in the infirmary that he didn't need to stay with her, but he refused to leave her alone for long periods of time. He knew she had been mildly annoyed by this but also that this annoyance was fleeting. A silent joy seemed to emanate from her every time she woke to find him there, and it sent a small rush of exhilaration through him.

He hadn't felt that with Rey. Despite fighting off the Order together and a shared sense of isolation and loneliness that had drawn him to her, there was a subtle detachment Rey carried—one that he knew wasn't directed toward him but that seemed to surround if not engulf her. After hearing about her adventures on Ahch-To with the legendary Luke Skywalker and seeing firsthand her Force abilities, he understood that confusion and questioning weighed heavily on her. He also knew it wasn't the full story.

Rey was complicated. Rose less so.

"You okay there?"

Finn snapped out of his reverie and glanced over at Rose seated in the cockpit. "Yeah," he said. "Just thinking."

She nodded before turning back to the controls. "We're coming up on Reamma. No detections as far as spacecraft, and the atmosphere looks good, so it should be an easy landing."

"What do think the likelihood is that we're going to find anything useful here?" Finn asked.

"Slim to none," she said flatly. "Everything will likely be in the same condition as it was on Crait, unless the Alliance took extra caution and stored everything properly in case of a hollow victory against the Empire." Her fingers danced over a few buttons on the panel. "And even then nothing has, at best guess, been used or accessed in thirty years. But who knows," she said with a shrug. "Maybe we'll get lucky." She grinned at him.

"I hope so," he said with a sigh.

Rose looked forward to the day her body would cease to ache—she just hoped it wouldn't be the result of dying in battle or being summarily executed but the First Order. The severity of her pain had lessened, thanks in large part to the medical attention she had received on Naboo, but she was no less conscious of it. She knew also that, despite making no mention of it and giving assurances to the surviving crew that she was fine, they were aware of the stiffness of her gait and the pace at which she walked.

Still she had been lucky. One of the Nabooian physicians described the impact to her ribs but noted no organs had been punctured nor any bones broken. That she had come away from the crash with only bruising and superficial wounds was miraculous.

It hadn't felt miraculous at the time.

Finn, for his part, had made the circumstances somewhat more bearable. He had been at her bedside when she regained consciousness and had stayed close for the better part of their time on Naboo, a noticeable departure from just over a week ago when every action and thought he had revolved around Rey. When he recounted everything that had happened while Rose was unconscious and told her how Rey had saved them all on Crait, Rose half expected him to go back to fawning over the Jakku scavenger again. Surprisingly, he didn't spend a lot of time on the subject, focusing instead on the state of the Resistance, the Order's likely next move, and whether Rose was comfortable or not.

More unexpected was Rey visiting Rose in the infirmary during one of the few times Finn had stepped away, most likely to meet with Poe.

"I hope I'm not disturbing you," Rey had said quietly, approaching Rose's bed.

Rose shook her head. "No, I'm just…thinking."

Rey nodded. "They say your injuries weren't as bad as they expected. That's good news," she said. Rose answered with a tight-lipped smile. "Yeah," she said.

There was a long pause, and Rose wondered if Rey was at all conscious of how awkward this moment was. But then Rey broke the silence. "I want to commend you on what you did. It was incredibly brave. I doubt any man in the Resistance would have done something so courageous for any one of his fellow soldiers."

Rose blinked. She hadn't been expecting praise—she hadn't really been expecting anything. But looking into Rey's eyes, she could see the sincerity of the statement and felt herself smile. "They aren't still talking about that, are they?"

Rey smiled back. "Yeah they are," she answered. "I didn't get Finn's version until later." She turned to scan the room quickly before returning her attention to Rose. "You know you're a hero to him, right?"

Rose could still feel the blush across her face. "No," she had said, shaking her head slightly, "I'm just…" She searched for the right words, ones she felt wouldn't betray her own self-doubt and insecurity. She glanced at Rey, who had raised her eyebrows slightly. Rose then understood. Rey had been passing on a truth to Rose, a truth she had quietly hoped for. Rose nodded softly, signaling that she understood. "I guess I am," she said quietly.

A control on the console lit up, signaling processes for atmospheric descent had completed. The Nabooian starskiff Soruna had provided was aged but well maintained and also easy to pilot. That alone boosted Rose's confidence. She adjusted the acceleration, checked the engine display, and brought up the coordinates for the rebel base LX-Robynsun V. "Buckle up!" she chirped.

Finn gave her a sideways glance. "You sound like you're enjoying this."

"Not really, but a little enthusiasm can't hurt," she said before activating the shields.

Reamma had very little to offer in the way of terrain. Multicolored rock formations dominated the landscape, broken up only by two bodies of water that had once covered a larger portion of the planet but had receded drastically in the planet's early years. Water runoff and wind erosion carved into the hardened sediment, forming undulating ridges over most of the planet's surface. As desolate as Reamma was, it was hard not to feel awestruck by its geology.

Flying lower, Rose charted the coordinates for the old Alliance base. According to the readout, they were not too far away. She hadn't seen anything on the surface after entering the atmosphere and found herself wondering if one of the stone pinnacles concealed the base's entrance.

She frowned at the display monitor a moment later.

"What? What is it?" Finn asked.

"I don't understand," she said. "It's supposed to be—"

There was a sharp intake of breath. Finn looked from her to the monitor to see a giant crater on the screen. A second later they saw it through the transparitsteel window. The crater's sides jutted upward, disrupting the geological curvature of the terrain, and its center cut deep into the surface—an indication of a direct hit.

"First Order?" Rose asked quietly.

"First Order," Finn answered. "It doesn't look recent, though," he added after a pause. "I can see some of the wind's erosive effect from here, but I don't think this happened very long ago either."

Rose didn't answer. Although the base had been abandoned for decades, its destruction was enough to remind her of their evacuation from D'Quar and of Paige. The ache in her body was nothing compared to the ache in her heart. Her hand found the medallion around her neck and she clasped it tightly.

— — —

Rech Var watched as the tiny spaceship cleared Reamma's atmosphere, a noticeable speck in an otherwise still portrait of an unnamed remote system. For as long as he had been patrolling this sector of the outer territories, he had become largely familiar with the sporadic comings and goings of various spacecraft. He also knew well enough none had cause to land on such a barren planet.

Not without an ulterior intent anyway.

He ran a scan and was surprised to find the ship was unarmed and also Nabooian. He briefly considered whether or not it had been stolen but then dismissed the thought. It was too unusual, too out of the ordinary.

He reached for his commlink.

"Rho Elite to Finalizer. A rogue Nabooian spaceskiff has been spotted exiting the Reamma atmosphere."


	5. Chapter 5

Hux drew his brows together. Why would a Nabooian skiff be so far out from its home system? He glanced at Lieutenant Peavy, who appeared to be equally bewildered. Shifting his eyes below to the officer patching the pilot's connection, he gave his order: "Follow it. Do not advance but don't lose sight of it. Report anything suspicious."

"Yes, general," the pilot answered before disconnecting.

"Soruna must be up to something," Hux muttered. He again turned to Peavy. "What's the latest report?"

"Very little, sir," Peavy answered. "There has been mild movement in terms of craft but our scouts have yet to report anything at ground level."

"Any transmissions from CI-62266?"

"No, sir."

Hux pursed his lips. "Keep checking," he said.

"Yes, sir," Peavy said with a salute. Hux turned away and took several steps towards the viewport before noticing another lieutenant making her way toward him. For a brief moment, he found himself unable to recall her name. It was rare for Hux to ever forget anything, but the general disorder following the battle on Crait and change in leadership while doggedly pursuing the last of the Resistance rebels had him focusing his attention on everything but the most trivial of things, including names of subordinates.

 _Valen_ , he thought to himself. _It's Valen._

The lieutenant raised her hand in salute before coming to a halt. "Sir," she said, bringing her hand down. "An approaching vessel is seeking clearance to dock. It's the _Scourge_."

Hux felt the blood drain from his face. _It couldn't possibly be_. A deafening silence rung through his ears, and he cast a glace around to find everyone on the bridge within earshot staring at the both of them. He slowly turned back to Valen, straightening himself as he did, and gave a curt nod. Valen turned on her heel and marched back toward the hangar, Hux following a few feet behind.

The _Scourge_ was one of several projects Hux had overseen in recent years. It combined the agility and advanced combat weaponry of a First Order starfighter with the capacity and hyperdrive speeds of an Upsilon-class shuttle. However, Hux didn't have the chance to see it deployed; after its completion, it was appropriated by Snoke for another purpose. Hux knew the Supreme Leader had objectives outside of the Order's and that those objectives were known only to him and Kylo Ren. But that was not enough to stop Hux from gleaning information as to what Snoke intended to do with the craft. After pressing one of the project's engineers (along with issuing a few threats), he learned that the _Scourge_ was to be turned over to a squad led by none other than Ren. More than having no knowledge of Snoke's secret patrol (if it could be called that), the fact that Ren would have command of his prototype galled Hux more than he could stand at the time.

But there was nothing to be done about it. Instead of trying to replicate the design, Hux turned his attention to building other models of spacecraft with similar features and expanding the Order's cadre of weapons technology, stifling his animus when the occasional rumor about the enigmatic gang reached his ears. In time, however, anger gave way to intrigue, as the whispers among personnel recounted various dark undertakings and a vicious portrait of the group began to emerge. He couldn't be sure there was any truth to these rumors but knew if there was then he had a bigger problem than having First Order property expropriated—especially given that Ren was hardly mentioned, most likely due to Snoke requiring his presence more and more. That meant his little coterie was left to their own devices…

The ramp was already down by the time Hux and Lieutenant Valen approached, though no one had disembarked the ship. A troop of stormtroopers stood at attention to the left and the right. Hux looked out of the corner of his eye toCaptain Dureth ** _,_** the newest commander following the demise of Captain Phasma. Hux greatly regretted losing Phasma. She had been deadly and cruel to the core. One could sense imminent doom in the sultry cadence of her voice. How wondrous it was. Dureth, for his part, was equally cold and ruthless, though less melodious in tone of voice. That was enough for Hux.

Dureth tilted his helmeted head forward in a slight nod to the general—what was translated as a confirmation that he would order his squadron to fire if necessary. Hux thought back to some of the things he had heard over the years about the _Scourge_ 's crew and felt his stomach tighten slightly. If the rumors were true, he did not want to take any chances, especially without knowing their allegiance now that Snoke was dead and what reason they had to come here—assuming it wasn't a result of the former.

The sound of heavy footsteps echoed from inside ship before a tall figure clad in black and wearing a tessellated helmet appeared. He marched down the ramp toward Hux. Five others gradually emerged, all masked and in similar garb, their weapons in hand. Hux caught the slightest stir among the stormtroopers out of the corner of his eye, but none leveled their blasters. Dureth himself hardly flinched, instilling Hux with a slight sense of ease.

He turned his attention back to the first figure, who came to a stop several feet in front of Hux. He was only about an inch taller, and yet, he seemed to loom over the general. Unlike the others, he wasn't holding any weapons, much to Hux's relief.

"We are here to see the Master," said a synthesized voice from inside the helmet. A spark of annoyance flashed somewhere in the recesses of Hux's mind. As deadly as these men were said to be, their insistence on wearing silly masks and altering their voices evoked a childishness that Hux found exasperating. To hide one's true face and voice rather than use them to strike fear in the hearts of subordinates and the subjugated was cowardice.

"The Supreme Leader is in his chambers," Hux answered, realizing as he said it that Ren was indeed not present. "I was not informed that you were expected. State your business." He managed to puff himself up slightly with this last sentence.

The tessellated helmet tilted slightly to the side. "Supreme Leader?"

— — —

The doors of the turbolift opened and barely a second passed before Ren exited, his typically impassive face replaced with by a glower. He reached the other end of the corridor within seconds before winding around a corner. He didn't slow as he approached two stormtroopers standing guard outside one of the _Finalizer_ 's briefing compartments. One of the soldiers had already moved to key in the entry code. It opened just as Ren stepped in front of it, and in a flash, he stepped inside.

Six black-clad figures turned toward him as he entered, all masked except for one whose helmet sat on a nearby plinth. Captain Dureth and one of his men stood in a far corner to Ren's left, armed but with their weapons at ease. None of the six had their blasters in hand. Two of them were holding their own staves but neither took on a fighting stance. They stood with three others behind the unmasked one, who locked eyes with Ren.

The compartment door snapped shut.

"What are you doing here?" Ren demanded.

"We've completed our mission in the Illum system," the other man said calmly. He opened his mouth to continue, but Ren cut him off.

"You were supposed to return to the Unknown Regions to await further instructions."

The man cocked his head slightly to the side and raised his eyebrows a hair. "My apologies," he said slowly, "Supreme Leader." He let these last two words hang for a moment, his eyes never leaving Ren's. "We felt…a disturbance."

So they knew, Ren thought to himself. He had suspected as much. They were all attuned to the Force, though none so powerfully as Ren. He flicked his eyes at one of the others—the one who called himself Sniper—as he shifted his weight on his long-range blaster before focusing again on the man before him.

"The Supreme Leader is dead," he said in a low voice. It wasn't the threatening tone he had used with Hux weeks before, but there was a tinge of venom injected in it.

There was no reaction from any of them, which was to be expected. A tense silence followed.

"I see," the other man said softly. Ren suspected that was not all he saw. Rogue—the name Snoke had bestowed upon him—had always had a keen sense of insight. He was, in fact, skilled in a number of ways, though he lacked the power and strength Ren possessed—something that had not been lost on Snoke himself. It was why their master ceased Rogue's apprenticeship and focused on training Ren. It was something Ren knew Rogue would never forget and never forgive, despite the man's continued loyalty and obedience to Snoke.

"There is something else," Rogue said slowly, and Ren realized he was looking at the scar that was slashed across the side of Ren's face. Ren felt his nostrils flare. The other man quickly shifted his eyes back to Ren's and the two stood quietly holding each other's gaze. No thoughts passed between them, as a casual observer might imagine. The conversation was purely kinesic.

Rogue was the first to break away. He turned his green eyes to his checkered helmet and picked it up off the plinth. Holding it in both hands, he looked back to Ren.

"We are at your command," he said, "Leader."

"I have a mission for you."

— — —

Hux watched from a control room overlooking the craft hangar as the visitors made their way back to the _Scourge_. Though he had never questioned their existence or the veracity of the stories he had heard, seeing the Knights in the flesh gave credence to their reputation with the unfortunate side effect of instilling him with a slight sense of awe and overwhelming feeling of disquiet. Like Ren and Snoke, they were able to harness a ubiquitous and metaphysical power—a power he never really understood but was nonetheless a hurdle to achieving his aims. The more mystics that cropped up in this galaxy, the more the focus of this war shifted away from reasserting galactic control and building a new imperial legacy. More troubling was the fact that Ren hadn't anticipated their coming.

But where was he sending them off to now?

Hux replayed his interaction with the one that seemed to be the leader of the bunch. Despite the vocal modifier, there was a faint incredulity and pique embedded in the tone of voice when Hux conferred Ren's status. He couldn't help feel somewhat intrigued by this. Regrettably, he would likely also not have the chance or means to explore it. But something was undoubtedly _there._

Curious. Curious indeed.

— — —

"We're being followed."

Finn looked up from the small holomap displayed before him. "What?" he asked before scrambling out of his seat and moving toward Rose. "How do you know?"

"This," Rose said, tapping a black rectangular instrument on the skiff's dash. A hologram appeared in front of the transparisteel window. "It's a modified Imperial homing beacon one of the techs on Naboo gave me," she continued. "It has a machine-learning capability that detects and monitors nearby activity. Continued flight behaviors, such as trailing, are recorded and it triggers an alert when activity is prolonged." She pointed to a yellow dot. "This is our friend. And he has apparently been keeping an eye on us since we left Reamma."

Finn didn't need a scan to tell him that the ship belonged to the First Order. "Can we jump to light speed?"

"We could, but it would drain our fuel," Rose said. "We could try a layover at a nearby moon or planet and ditch him there, but there's no guarantee that will work. He may just wait for us to take off again."

"Likely with a few of his friends," Finn said, shaking his head. He ran a quick mental inventory of what armaments they had. It was unlikely the craft was adequately equipped to engage or defend against an enemy, least of all a Force Order pilot.

Rose sat quietly, running her own computations through her head. A smile spread across her face a moment later. "I think I have an idea," she said. She turned in the pilot seat to face Finn. "Can you check the magnetometer and IEWR?"

Finn turned and moved toward the cockpit entryway where a panel of sensors and data instruments were housed. He scanned until his eyes found what Rose was looking for. "There are high speed solar winds coming off this system's sun," he said as he reviewed the readout. "It's causing some geomagnetic activity around Bortras."

"What class?"

"Just under a T1," Finn said, turning back to her. "Why?"

"If we pass into the vicinity, the charged particles from the solar winds could disrupt the pilot's sensors," Rose answered, closing the hologram and turning to the controls in front of her.

"Um, don't you think that's a bit risky?" Finn asked, stepping back into the cockpit. "And we don't know if that ship has any electromagnetic shielding." The words had barely escaped him before he was seized with alarm. "Wait—do _we_ have any shielding?"

"None of the Order's solo starfighters have those," Rose said. She paused before turning to look at Finn again. "How do you not know that?"

Finn made a face. Before he could respond, Rose turned back to the control panel and continued. "We, however, do have one. Nabooians developed an energy efficient engine system that doesn't add to the ship's mass or decrease its maneuverability. When we get close enough to the storm, I can activate it."

"And what if he doesn't bite? The ship's monitors will likely pick up the geomagnetic activity."

"Then he pulls back, we go through the storm, we consider our options and make an escape before he can call his buddies and resume tracking." She looked over her shoulder at Finn. His face was unreadable— _that has to be a first_ —but she knew he was considering her plan.

After another beat of silence, he took a deep breath. "I hope you know what you're doing."

"I hope so, too," she said, turning back to the controls. In the periphery of her vision, she saw him turn his head to stare at her.

The two rode in silence as they drew closer to the small planet, the First Order pilot drifting not too closely behind. It suddenly occurred to Finn that the First Order's fleet could be nearby. A bolt of panic shot through him. But then his eyes caught the rectangular beacon on the controls and he relaxed his muscles. It would have likely picked up on any enemy ships in proximity.

At least he hoped so.

Rose reached up above her head to tap a button, activating the shielding. The First Order starship was still too far behind to appear on their ship's radar, so she tapped the beacon again. The little yellow dot reappeared, and Finn noticed the little green dot for the first time, what assumedly denoted their ship. There was indeed a pretty good distance between them, but the yellow dot was still following along in the green dot's wake. The minutes crept along and they watched the holomap intently. Then the yellow dot suddenly careened to the left before beginning to flicker.

"He's losing his signal," Rose whispered.

Finn didn't answer. The dot faded, brightened, and faded again. It had veered off from the path of the green dot, moving at odd angles. Finn pulled himself away to check the magnetometer and IEWR. Geomagnetic activity was beginning to wane. He looked over more of the readout.

"It's gone," he heard Rose say. It sounded like a deep exhalation, the kind that came after holding one's breath for a long time. She turned around to look at him. "The ship's signal faded."

"More than that, the signal is dead," he said, looking back at her. "Solar flare just obliterated that guy."


	6. Chapter 6

Rey didn't think Batuu could be any more different (or a welcomed change of scene) than Dagobah. Lush with forests and mountains, it reminded her of Takodana, though she noticed during their flyover that there were fewer lake areas. Not that she minded; after their venture to the swamp planet, she could use a break from wet and humid environs.

Batuu sat on the edge of the galaxy, serving as a demarcation between galactic civilization and the remoteness of Wild Space. Given its distance and the convenience hyperspace travel afforded most travelers, the small planet was easily bypassed. It therefore came to be largely occupied by pirates and black-market merchants and also served as the final port of call for the occasional voyager seeking to traverse the frontier.

Due to its remoteness, and as well as perhaps its lawlessness, Batuu had yet to fall under the First Order's dominion. For many it still served as a refuge from the Order's seeming omniscience, and Rey wasn't surprised to learn that Resistance soldiers had temporarily stationed themselves in a river valley near Black Spire Outpost. Had a First Order spaceport not already been established on the planet, she would have considered telling Poe to consider it as a potential location for a new Resistance base. The base hadn't been occupied for some time, but Rey knew that could quickly change.

After a brief debate as to whether or not they should land the _Falcon_ near the rock spires, they decided to set down in a forested area that provided plenty of cover from overhead. Rey doubted the likelihood that First Order squadrons would be surveilling this far out in the galaxy, especially given the recent HoloNet decree and the number of well-inhabited planets that would be prioritized for subjugation. Still she and Chewie didn't want to take the chance that independent agents and bounty hunters were roaming in search of the Corellian freighter.

The two descended into the bustling streets of Black Spire, Rey with her quarterstaff in hand and the hood of her white robes obscuring her face and Chewie with his blaster tucked inside the pouch of his bandolier. Unlike Niima with its sparse outdoor setups and open spaces, Black Spire was littered with street vendors, had various cantinas housed in actual buildings, and was accessed by defined cobbled stone walkways instead of swaths of sand. Rey glanced at the wares being shown off as they pushed through the marketplace crowd. She couldn't help wonder how many portions some of her scavenger pieces would have earned her here, though she knew she lacked the practice of deception merchants here were notably well-versed in. Her eyes lingered on a few common droid parts. No price was listed, and she knew that alone served as an open invitation to haggle.

A Darshi to their right held up gun-metal spherical object and began chittering at Chewie. Intrigued, Chewie reached out and held the object in his furry hands, considering it. He growled inquiringly at the Darshi, who chittered in response.

Rey's attention was not on them, though she was not completely removed from their conversation. (She'd tell Chewie the object was counterfeit in a moment). She was letting herself be guided to where they needed to be. And she knew they were close…

She focused her eyes ahead and saw a slightly hunched Bith stooping over what looked like jeweled trinkets and accessories. _There_ , she thought. She turned to beckon Chewie, who had proceeded to the haggling stage with the Darshi over the dark metaled sphere.

"Chewie," she said flatly, causing the Wookie to turn toward her. "Leave it. It's not genuine. None of that is."

Chewie turned back to the Darshi, who nervously looked from Rey to Chewie, its eyes wide. Chewie scowled and tossed the sphere down with a roar, causing a little shriek to emit from the Darshi. The Wookie grunted and moved to join Rey in front of the Bith's stand. The glassy dark eyes of the creature rested on them, glittering with curiosity while also studying them cautiously.

"Take me to the pirate," Rey said softly in Bith.

The Bith didn't answer but turned and waved at its companion standing nearby. This one was slightly taller and with a pinkish tinge to its skin that hinted at youth. The older Bith spoke softly, too low for Rey to catch, but the other's rueful reply indicated its objection. The first Bith spoke again, a little more firmly this time. The other answered begrudgingly and moved to take its place in front of the stand to better court prospective customers. The elder Bith beckoned Rey and Chewie with its hand and walked over to a doorway behind the little stand. The door was closed, but the Bith unlocked it with a small tool that Rey didn't recognize. The door opened and the Bith nodded its head for them to enter.

Rey stepped in and found herself in a small hallway lit by light from the main room ahead. She heard Chewie growl slightly from behind her.

"It's fine, Chewie," she said, walking ahead. The room at the end of the hall was round and filled with boxes and crates of various sizes. There were no windows, and Rey looked around to locate the source of light only to be distracted by the faded tapestries hanging from the walls. The designs on them were ordinary and largely unfamiliar, and Rey realized the only reason she took any notice at all was because her mind was looking for the distinct outlines of a golden crest.

She brought her eyes to the empty center of the room before glancing at the opposite side. There sat a sturdy looking table covered in analogs, the diminutive form of Maz Kanata bent over them.

"About time you got here," Maz beamed, barely looking up.

"I wasn't quite convinced we weren't walking into a trap," Rey said, removing her hood.

"You would have known if it was," Maz said, setting down the copy in her hand. From the plots sketched on the back, Rey guessed that they were analogs of galactic maps. Maz got up from her seat and moved toward Chewie. "Hi boyfriend," she said before embracing him.

Chewie answered with a purr. She let go and looked up at him, a touch of sorrow in her eyes. "I suppose I'll have to get used to seeing you without your other half now."

Chewie lowered his head and let out a solemn whine.

"Han was one of the good ones," Maz continued. "Stubborn as a Roogak and as insufferable as a nerf-herder on occasion, but he had a good heart." A beat of silence passed before Maz let out a small sigh and then turned on her heel back toward the table. "Well then," she exclaimed, "to business!"

"I still can't believe Chewie know how to contact you this whole time," Rey said, setting her staff down and making her way toward Maz.

"It was touch and go, to be sure" Maz said. "I had a bit of a wrangle with a few, erm, associates. Long story," she said with a dismissive wave. She moved to look behind a stack of crates that were filled with what Rey assumed was more merchandise, though she doubted it all belonged to the Bith. Maz reappeared a moment later with a sizeable trunk in her hands. Rey recognized it almost instantly.

"That chest. That's the one from Takodana," She said. "The one that held the lightsaber."

"The very same," Maz said lifting it onto the table. Rey seated herself while Maz fiddled with the clasps. "It seemed appropriate to put it in here." She continued. She rummaged around inside before withdrawing a hand-bound book a moment later.

"This belonged to a man named Lor San Tekka," said Maz, brushing one of her ancient hands across the book's outer cover. "He was a devout believer in the Force and the Jedi Order and spent many years of his life seeking out Jedi artifacts to protect them from being destroyed by the Empire. We crossed paths some years ago and he entrusted this to me, no doubt aware of how valuable its contents were and the dangers of traveling with it across the galaxy." She extended her arm to give the book to Rey.

Rey took it from her and, using both hands, began gently flipping through the book's pages. She stopped a moment later. There, etched on the faded parchment, were illustrations and diagrams of what was undoubtedly a lightsaber. Small pieces of script were dispersed along the margins noting essential parts and the overall design. Rey turned the page to find another sketch of the same weapon along with detailed instructions.

"You said traveling with this was dangerous," Rey said, still looking at the book. "Why?"

"Part of the Purge," Maz said. "Lightsabers were outlawed at the very start of the Galactic Civil War, and there were sanctions on crystal mining and trading. Any Jedi openly looking to create or even draw their lightsaber design was risking her own life."

A thought occurred to Rey and she placed a finger inside the book to mark her place. She folded it shut and glanced at the cover. Nothing. She turned it over and squinted. The years and parsecs had made the Aurebesh glyphs hardly visible on the faded cover but Rey was still able to read them.

"The Journals of Ben Kenobi," she said. She glanced up at Maz, who was smiling sagaciously. "Who was Ben Kenobi?"

"I believe he was Luke's mentor."

Rey swallowed. "Luke," she said softly to Maz.

"I know," Maz answered. "And Leia."

The two held each other's gaze. Maz was ever the enigma, somehow knowing everything without omniscience or omnipresence. It made sense that she knew about Leia—the whole galaxy did. But Luke? Perhaps the evanescing of his spirit had extended further than Rey had realized. Then again Maz was more than a millennia old, giving her years to cultivate a mystic clairvoyance.

The wizened creature reached out her hand toward Rey. Rey took it, thinking how eerily similar the gesture was to their private conversation in Maz's castle not so long ago.

"I told you on Takodana," Maz began, as if reading the young woman's mind, "that the belonging you seek lay ahead, did I not?"

Rey nodded.

"And here you are, looking ahead and not behind as you were, part of something bigger than you ever could imagine." Maz squeezed Rey's hand and looked deep into her eyes. "They may be gone, Rey, but everything they fought for and believed in lives on. It's up to you. You decide what happens next."

Rey tilted her head in a slight nod. Maz let go and withdrew her hand back across the table. She glanced over at Chewie, who was standing at attention nearby. "Just make sure you take care of my boyfriend. I don't want anything to happen to that beautiful coat."

— — —

Her visitors gone, Maz heaved the ancient trunk off the table and stowed it away before settling back down to review the charts splayed out on the table. The First Order's decree for surrender would undoubtedly put a dent in the smuggling trade, and she wasn't quite sure how she and her cohorts were going to get around it. She knew not every sector would surrender right away, so there was some time to finish a few jobs and maybe pick up a few others. But unless they cut a deal with the Order, business was more or less dead. And knowing what she did and who was looking for her, she didn't feel inclined to come to the bargaining table.

She traced a finger along a line notated as Braxant Run and tried to remember the Warbirds' current allegiance. There was that incident on Castilon a few years ago, but the Order could be very persuasive, especially if the price was right.

Maz lifted her head, suddenly aware of the stillness of the air around her.

They were here. They had found her.

She quickly rolled up the maps and stuffed them into an empty pottery piece in a nearby open crate. Thankfully the black-market hooch was sealed and stowed elsewhere in the room. Had it been in place of the pottery, her presence would have likely been uncovered by anyone conducting a search and investigation of the premises. She grabbed her blaster and edged down the hallway toward the entrance. Cracking the door slightly, she peeked out. A set of stormtroopers passed by, pausing to question the merchants across the way.

Maz grimaced. _They_ were definitely here.

She zipped to the other side of the room and kicked the table over on its side, revealing a hatch door installed in the floor. She dug her fingers into the small opening to lift it up just as the elder Bith slipped in. It immediately began saying something to her.

"I know," she replied, lifting the door and lowering herself inside. "I'm on my way now. Be sure to cover this. The last thing I want is for you all to end up dead." The Bith didn't wait for her to finish before moving toward the table to set it upright. Maz slipped down, closing the hatch behind her.

The tunnel didn't extend far. It led to an underground storeroom beneath Tuggs' Grub and didn't exactly provide the means of escape she would have liked. She could stay in the tunnel itself rather than enter the storeroom but assuming the patrol searched the diner, the hidden passageway would be easily uncovered.

She dashed along until she reached the door leading to the storeroom and pressed her diminutive body against it to push it open. It gave way with surprisingly little effort, and she realized that nothing was blocking it. Probably one of the idiot kitchen staff moved the decoy crate Tuggs had set in front of it. She repressed a snort of annoyance.

The storeroom itself wasn't completely enclosed; it opened up into the kitchen area, which was currently bustling with activity. Blaster in hand, Maz moved forward, taking only a few seconds to glance around before darting toward the trash chutes. If any of the staff took notice, they didn't indicate it. It may have been possible then for her to have slipped out through the diner's front end, but the risk of drawing too much attention from serving droids (they were already pretty particular, to put it lightly) or being spotted by a stormtrooper surveying was too great. Without hesitation, she hopped in and slid down a short way out onto a grassy plot behind the diner. Landing on her feet, she took a quick glance around. She was at the bottom of the hill that the diner and most of the Black Spire marketplace sat on. The droid depot was just around the bend. She just needed to get to the opposite side where the land speeder was hidden and take it to the starport over in Q'an Dala. From there, she could get on the next outbound ship. She would make arrangements with the Bith and Tuggs to have what little was left behind sent to her later.

She took a few steps forward, registering their presence a moment later. She whirled around with her blaster leveled. There were three of them, all masked, all in black, all armed and aiming their guns at her. She sensed movement behind her and knew the other knights had joined them. No need to turn around—their weapons were trained on her as well.

The odds of her escaping had decreased significantly. Aside from their guns, each of the knights was carrying a specialized weapon—their signatures of destruction. Maz had heard the stories the regulars had recounted on Takodana. She had no reason to doubt them.

She tightened her grip on the blaster as one of the knights stepped forward. She could feel the darkness emanating from him and knew the eyes behind his checkered mask reflected that energy. He had already holstered his blaster, but Maz's attention was focused on the other weapon strapped to his belt.

"Where is it?" asked the synthesized voice behind the mask.

"You're too late," Maz said. There was no light humor or subtle taunting in her voice, just a cold resolve and firm acceptance.

The knight didn't answer. Instead he reached for the other weapon on his belt and slid it into his hand.

The lightsaber ignited.

— — —

Ren entered his private chambers and began removing his piloting gloves when a miniature droid lit up and beeped several times, notifying him of an incoming transmission.

Ren walked over and towered over a hologram projection of Rogue. "Master," it rasped.

"Did you get it?" Ren asked.

"We located the target, but the artifact seems to have been handed off."

Ren's mouth curled slightly in irritation. "We think we know where it has gone," Rogue continued. "The ship you are looking for—the _Falcon_. It was here."

Ren stared at the hologram. Was it possible? Had she known of its existence this whole time? The plan to recover it before she did?

"We're processing the coordinates—"

"Nevermind," Ren said. "Just get back here."

He saw the hologram of Rogue stiffen. "Master," Rogue replied, an edge in his voice. It carried in it a tinge of desperation but, more palpable, a sense of dismay at the mere suggestion of abandoning the quest.

"I said get back here," Ren said.

The projected image remained still before quietly answering "Yes, Supreme Leader." Then it disappeared.

Ren stood for a moment before walking over to a panel on the opposite wall. He located a button and pressed it.

"General Hux," crackled a voice.

"The _Scourge_ is preparing to leave Batuu," Ren said, not bothering to identify himself. "Shoot it down."

There was a brief moment of silence from the other end, what Ren imagined was Hux squelching his surprise.

"Yes, Leader," the general answered.

— — —

Rey sat in the cockpit of the _Falcon_ studying the lightsaber drawings. She and Chewie were able to get off of Batuu without trouble, even as an incoming squadron of stormtroopers were making their way into Black Spire. They had prepared themselves to face an onslaught of First Order TIEs in the planet's atmosphere and were surprised to find none. They didn't have time to deliberate whether they were being lured into a false sense of security: the sooner they were out of range the better. It wouldn't be long before the Order would resume operations in its starport and start using whatever equipment was available to track them.

She turned back to the previous page that depicted a more intricate illustration. Rey was struck by the level of detail this Ben Kenobi used in his renderings of his lightsaber. It was as if his intention was to create a guide for Luke rather than a record of his private thoughts and life events. She had yet to comb through the rest of the journal. The temptation was certainly there, but other things had to take precedence. She thought about the Jedi texts hidden in one of the _Falcon_ 's compartments. They hadn't contained any useful information about the construction of lightsabers, though she only gave the volumes a quick run through. But something told her that the answers to any questions she would have would likely be buried in the pages of the journal and not the sacred writings.

She traced the diagram on the page with her finger. It seemed that in addition to replacing the field energizers and rewiring the lightsaber's circuits, she would need to recreate the therminaic generator and properly fused it to the lens housing—not a particularly easy task but possible. And to her relief, it wouldn't require as many parts as she had thought.

A sudden jolt caused her body to go rigid. She grasped the spine of the journal with one hand and the arm of the pilot's seat with the other. Chewie glanced over at her, a quiet bafflement in his eyes, and made an inquiring sound in his throat. Rey didn't answer. The sensation had already faded and there was only a lingering soft, soothing energy. Chewie made another sound in his throat. Rey looked at him, searching for the words to tell the Wookie that Maz was gone.


	7. Chapter 7

Author's note: Updated again to show the scene breaks. Feedback welcome.

* * *

"What do you mean I need a permit?"

Rose couldn't believe what she was hearing. After cruising through the geomagnetic storm and evading a First Order spy, she had realized how low their fuel reserves were and made the hasty calculation to navigate to the planet Bespin in the Anoat sector. The planet was known for its strong ties to the New (and Old) Republic and for its anti-First Order sentiment. It was one of the safest places in the galaxy for them to rest and refuel. Or so she thought.

"All incoming spacecraft are required to have a permit. Planetary ordinance," an authoritative voice crackled across the com. A Twin-pod cloud car appeared just outside the viewport a moment later.

Finn grimaced.

"I don't _have_ a landing permit. I _have_ an almost empty tank of fuel," Rose spat. "Look, we're part of the Resistance. This is a Nabooian ship sanctioned by Queen Sosha Soruna. Do I _need_ to show you the authorization?"

"Yes"

Rose punched a key on the control panel and let out an exasperated sigh.

"For an ally planet, these guys aren't being very friendly," Finn said. "Are we sure it's not secretly under First Order control?"

Rose opened her mouth to answer, but before she could issue the scathing response already forming in her mind, the voice of the city's patrol came back over the com. "Clearance granted. Continue to platform 243."

"Thanks," Rose said, hastily switching off the com. "Jerks," she muttered.

"Out of curiosity, why are we landing at Cloud City and not Tibannopolis or one of the other cities?" Finn asked, watching the patrol cars through the viewport. Apparently, they needed to be escorted to the platform, which both annoyed and perturbed Finn. "I thought you hated resort areas."

"Tibannopolis is shady," Rose said. "And Cloud City is actually an outpost. It just happens to have resort-style amenities. It's not Canto Bight."

"Sure isn't," Finn said, reminiscing at how beautiful and glamorous the destination city was. It sat on one of Cantonica's coasts whereas all of Bespin was enshrouded in gas, making Finn think that there was something (to say the very least) to be desired by comparison. As they drew closer, he was able to get a better view of the city. Though it lacked the opulence of Canto Bight, he could admit that there was something fantastical about a metropolis floating among pastel clouds. Perhaps that uniqueness was what set it apart and drew in tourists from all over the galaxy.

Rose landed the ship and noticed a maintenance crew already on the platform headed their way. For a brief second she reconsidered turning off the ship's ignition. She glanced over at Finn who also wore a look of concern. He put a hand on his blaster and threw a nod in her direction. She returned it before killing the engines and reaching for her own weapon.

They moved toward the ship's door but floated in the entryway rather than disembark. A technician down below walked ahead of the crew and called out to them.

"Sorry for the runaround" he said, smiling. He had the same youthful grin as Poe Dameron but was perhaps ten or fifteen years older with a full beard that matched his straw-colored hair. Rose couldn't help think it odd that he didn't look washed out in his tan coveralls. She set the thought aside and focused her attention. "We were having trouble verifying you weren't a stolen ship and possible First Order intruder," the technician continued. "Can't be too careful."

"Nope. Sure can't" Finn said, a hint of dubiousness in his voice. They holstered their weapons, let down the ramp, and descended, albeit slowly and cautiously.

"We'll have you fueled up and ready shortly. Any maintenance needs?"

"Uh, no" Rose said, watching the crew swarm around the skiff and start their assessment. The sudden switch to friendliness from cold suspicion made her a bit uneasy. Was this a trap? "Just fuel."

"Got it" the technician said before moving off toward the others, shouting orders as he did. Rose and Finn exchanged another look before noticing what looked like a city official standing near the platform gate. Throwing one final glance over their shoulders, they walked towards him.

"Welcome to Cloud City," the man said. "I am Keer Syphex, one of the city's administrators. My apologies for the inconvenience, but considering the current climate, we had to take extra precautions."

"We understand," Rose said somewhat tersely. Her irritation over their descent hadn't left her quite yet.

"The Parliament of Guilds and the Exex have been in communication with Queen Soruna and her Royal Council. We are well aware of the state of things. You have authorization to use any of the city's amenities during your stopover. We've also taken care of the cost of your fuel replacement."

"Oh, that's not necessary," Rose started, but Finn made a motion with his hand. "Hey, hey, they are just trying to be hospitable" before mouthing "Let them pay." Rose made a face. So much for being on guard.

The official smiled and chuckled slightly. "If either of you need a refresh, you'll find an open lounge on level six. We also have coms interspersed throughout the building, so please feel free to ask for me if you need anything."

"Thanks," the two Resistance members said at the same time, Finn exhibiting a little more enthusiasm than his partner. Syphex issued a nod before turning and moving back through the gate. The sound of a turbolift's doors closing reached their ears a moment later. Once he was out of sight, Finn put his hands to his hips and took in a breath. "I think this place is growing on me," not bothering to repress a smile while Rose rolled her eyes. She could only guess the mention of Soruna had set him at ease (she would be lying if she said it hadn't also relieved her of some anxiousness), though it was possible the sudden accommodations were also a primary factor. "I could use a drink," he added. "Shall we?"

"That actually sounds good," Rose conceded. Finn held his arm out for her to go first, a gesture that for no real reason caused Rose to smile and chuckle. _Such a goof_ , she thought to herself.

They got into the turbolift and navigated to level six as directed. The doors opened to a long white bar bathed in the city's interior light. A row of curved-back leather seats atop chrome bases lined the patron side while various attendants stood at different points along the bar, serving up galactic cocktails to guests. Others floated about, some carrying opaque cylinder glasses, making their way towards the shops at the other end or searching for another level with a casino in order to resume gambling.

The two approached the bar and ordered. Rose glanced around, taking in their surroundings while they waited. "You know, they say that one of the Alliance's generals was from here."

"Oh yeah?" Finn said. "Wait—I think I know this one." He squinted his eyes slightly and set his jaw in thought. "Calrissian," He said a moment later, turning back to face Rose. "He was instrumental in countering Operation Cinder."

"I'd call it more than just countering," said a voice behind them.

Rose and Finn turned around to see a caped figure approaching. A vibrant yellow shirt shown out from beneath the cloak, stopping at the waist where it met with a pair of dark slacks. The cape's royal blue lining caught Finn's eye as it created a color contrast that he considered with mild interest. Rose meanwhile scrutinized the agrinium metal gentleman's cane in the man's right hand. The carbonite knob caught her eye almost immediately, and she noted that the cane itself appeared to be more of an accessory part of an ensemble rather than an aid.

"The fleet under my command stopped the operation and actually turned the tide of the war," the man said. He paused a moment, moving his gaze from one and then to the other. "I may be old, but my memory is still excellent."

Rose realized her mouth had fallen open and quickly shut it before pushing herself off the bar. "General," she breathed, "it's…it's an honor."

The familiarity of this scene was not lost on Finn. He had on occasion recounted how starstruck Rose was when they first met aboard the _Raddus_ , once or twice laughing about it with Rose herself. But as much as he would like to joke about it now, he was himself in awe over the famed general standing before them.

"Baron," Lando Calrissian said. "I gave up the title of general long ago." He gave them each a quick look over. "And judging by your gear, I take it you two are more than just fans."

"Uh, we're Rose and Finn," Rose said, gesturing to herself and Finn respectively. "We're with the Resistance. Or what's left of it." She could hear the dejection in her own voice as this last part slipped out and tried to compensate with an awkward smile. Finn, meanwhile, brimmed with excitement.

"You are a war hero, a legend. Just like Han Solo," he said. Lando looked up at that but didn't respond. A shadow fell over Finn's face and he sobered himself. Clearing his throat, he said, "It's good to meet you, sir," and extended his arm out. Lando took it and gave it a firm shake.

The late general and infamous smuggler's name sparked a sudden realization in Rose's mind: Lando hadn't come to Naboo to see General Organa be laid to rest. It was well known among all members of the Resistance that the baron and former Rebel leader was a close friend of both generals. Han Solo's death hadn't been as publicized as General Organa's, so it was understandable if Calrissian was completely unaware of it. But there was little chance that the news of Leia's death hadn't reached him.

Rose looked up to see Lando's eyes on hers and wondered if her thoughts had given her away. She had always been terrible at masking them. But if the baron perceived anything, he didn't say so.

One of the lounge attendants had approached them and handed a cylindric glass to Lando. He took it in his left hand and gave them a smile. "I hope you enjoy your stay here," he said. He turned then and walked away, his cape swaying softly around him as he went.

Rose and Finn turned themselves slowly back toward the bar and cupped their drinks, which the attendant had set down without them noticing. They sipped silently, not saying anything for what seemed like an eternity.

"I don't understand," Rose finally said. "He fought alongside Leia and General Solo. Why didn't he come to Naboo? Why isn't he apart of this?"

"I don't know," Finn said quietly. "Something doesn't feel right." He sat quietly for a moment, one hand around his glass, lost in thought. He shook his head slightly a moment later. "Let's finish these and get back to the ship. We need to contact Poe."

— — —

"Lando Calrissian? _The_ Lando Calrissian?"

Finn smiled. As excited as he and Rose had been over encountering the former Alliance general, it was nothing compared to the awe and eagerness in Poe's voice. There was a childlike quality to it, as if Finn had been recounting an old folktale that left his friend excited and impatient to know what happened next in the story.

"The one and only," Finn answered.

"What did he say? Did you tell him who you were?"

Rose and Finn looked at one another and then back at the ship's communication console. "We mentioned we were with the Resistance, but he only sort of acknowledged it. He didn't ask any questions or anything. He just wished us a good stay."

There was a pause, and Finn could almost see Poe trying to absorb this. Poe's whole life had revolved around serving the galaxy and defending the governing principles at the heart of the New Republic. It wasn't exaggeration to say he knew nothing else. The idea that someone who had fought to bring it all into existence had somehow detached and settled into seeming indifference had to be confounding.

"Guys, we need him," Poe urged. "He's experienced, knowledgeable—"

"He has a cane," Finn said.

"He has a cane?"

Rose sneered at Finn. "Ableist much?"

Finn shrugged apologetically. "Just saying." This did not appease Rose in the very least. She shifted her gaze away, not hiding her annoyance.

"Rose is right, that's irrelevant," Poe said over the comm.

"Poe," Rose said, "When I mentioned we were Resistance, I realized something—Calrissian wasn't on Naboo. He didn't…he didn't come to see Leia."

There was another pause, and Rose felt a twinge of regret at saying anything. The reminder that Leia was gone was likely something Poe didn't need right now. For as little a time as she had known the pilot, she knew Leia had been more to him than just a superior officer: she had been something of a maternal figure to him as well.

"There's definitely something up," Finn said, breaking the quiet. "I'm not sure we are going to be able to persuade him that he's needed."

"All right, all right, let me…let me talk to Soruna," Poe said.

Lando set down his datapad and grimaced. He had been reading over the newest proposed Galactic Trade Agreement—an agreement that was unquestionably a nonstarter for Cloud City if not all of Bespin. The agreement called for a levy on the Tibanna gas the planet mined. Such a tax would increase the trade price and threatened the many partnerships the city had with other sectors, especially if gas miners on Kaer and Talorran could offer better prices.

None of this surprised Lando. The new Chair of the Commerce Council was a known First Order supporter, and the trade agreement was a thinly veiled attempt to stymie intergalactic trade and slow economic growth in order to facilitate the Order's takeover. Nearly every system faced some kind of planetary tariff, and there were a slew of strict sanctions for violations and failures to comply. The Exex had already condemned the proposal, and Lando was sure the Parliament of Guilds would also reject it. However, that only increased the likelihood that they were headed for a trade war.

 _Or occupation_ , Lando thought bitterly, remembering how the Empire had garrisoned the city all those years ago. He felt his mind begin to drift, but it was stopped short by Lobot notifying him of an incoming transmission. A welcomed distraction, he thought to himself. Some memories were better left buried.

"Patch it through," Lando told Lobot. He had been expecting data models from one of his business leaders and was hoping for an update on the planetary growth forecast. He leaned back in his chair and waited for the holoprojection to render only to jolt upright when he saw that the image was not the tall, robed man he had been expecting but the regal, well-dressed figure of Queen Sosha Soruna.

"Hello, Lando," said the hologram.

"Sosh—your Majesty," Lando answered, catching himself.

But that didn't stop the flood of familiar feelings from flowing through him. It had been years since they had spoken, longer still since they had last seen one another. He couldn't remember the last time he had even said her name. And yet after all this time, he hadn't forgotten the curve of her face or the tilt of her smile or the soft, sphinxlike luster of her brown eyes despite the holoprojection's blue glow.

"It's good to see you," Soruna said.

"Likewise," he answered, standing up as he did and balancing his fingertips lightly on the desk before him. It was an old habit meant to express his attentiveness. Once in a great while, someone would mistake it for a discreet attempt to keep himself standing. It was a mistake they would make once and never again.

"To what do I owe the pleasure?"

The image of the Nabooian queen cocked its head to one side and fixed him with an amused look. "So formal! Is that really how you greet an old friend?"

"It is when that friend is royalty, though I hesitate to use the word old—you don't seem to have aged a day."

Soruna smirked. "Still a smooth talker."

Lando couldn't resist grinning. "I _have_ aged, but I haven't changed. And I likely won't start now." His grin subsided a moment later. He knew there was a reason for this communication. It likely wasn't one he was going to be thrilled about. "If you are inquiring after the two Resistance fighters that traveled here, I can assure you that they have been granted access and accommodations."

"Thank you, but that is actually not why I'm contacting you."

 _Of course it isn't._ Lando didn't answer, and Soruna didn't seem to expect him to. Her smile had now faded and she wore a serious look. "I'm sure you are well aware of the First Order's latest movements."

"I am," he said bitterly, throwing a quick glance at the datapad on the desk.

"And you are no doubt aware that the Resistance fleet has been decimated," she continued. "Their entire command has been wiped out. Leia—"

"I know," Lando said softly. The dull ache that had wound through his chest when he first received word returned, a little more pronounced this time. News of Leia's death had shook him greatly. She had been a dear friend and ally to him. Worse still, her death confirmed an awful truth Lando hadn't wanted to accept. A week ago or so, he had overheard a drunken Gen'Dai recounting the death of Han Solo to some fellow lounge-goers. Lando didn't think too much of it at the time. Rumors of Han dying were constantly floating around the galaxy, especially in pirating circles. One day he was reported dead, the next the cocky bastard was alive and on another hit list. But when Lando hadn't heard anything from the smuggler after receiving notice of Leia's passing, he knew something wasn't right. Several days went by before resignation finally set in. His friend was gone.

That was when he began to ward off memories of the old days. As much as he loved Han and Leia, recounting their exploits all those years ago hurt too much.

He raised his eyes to the hologram. Soruna's face was unchanged but he could perceive the sadness in the projected image's eyes. She had been a friend of Leia's, too, and though she didn't show it Lando knew she was still grieving. A foolish desire to comfort her stirred inside him, though he knew she would never allow it.

They shared the silence for another moment before Soruna asked softly, "Why didn't you come? When I sent word?"

Lando swallowed. Another topic he had hoped to avoid. "I couldn't," he replied. It didn't surprise him that the words came out barely above a whisper.

"Because of Leia or because of me?"

He winced, and he knew she saw it. He couldn't help imagine that she knew how much he wanted to avoid revisiting the past, especially now. She had always been better about having the hard conversations. He had been better about soothing everything over. That didn't stop either of them from leaving things the way they did, and that in turn kept him from showing up after so many years and risking further anguish. When the message arrived, he only returned acknowledgement of its receipt via Lobot—not out of callousness or resentment but out of respect.

"A bit of both," he admitted.

There was another pause before Soruna continued. "I've deviated from the purpose of this communication." The holoform straightened and lifted its chin. "I don't need to tell you that I'm aiding the Resistance as it tries to rebuild. Part of that entails finding and recruiting old allies to counter the First Order." She paused a beat, fixing her deep eyes on Lando. "I want you to join us and serve as a general."

Lando didn't answer. The request didn't come as a surprise; he had suspected he would somehow be dragged into this burgeoning war when the two Resistance fighters arrived. He admittedly didn't think it would come from Soruna. The idea of taking up the mantle of general once again, however, didn't seem very appealing. He had been eager and more than willing to go against the Empire, but he was older now. No, that wasn't it—it was something else. Something about the whole thing just felt different. The First Order was far more technologically equipped that the Empire had been, and consequently more assertive and deadly. Furthermore, the Resistance had less resources and manpower than the Alliance had. It seemed a futile effort fed by a dimming Republic ideology. The chance of success was unlikely, even under Soruna. Lando didn't want to live under imperial rule, but it seemed inevitable.

"Lando," Soruna said, "you can't run from this. It's only a matter of time before the Order shows up there. Cloud City will not be able to defend itself, not alone."

 _I know_ , he thought solemnly. But her words ignited something in Lando he hadn't been able to himself. He could surrender to the Order and live out an untold number of days under a hostile regime. But that would be a betrayal to his city. Moreover, it would be a betrayal to Leia and to some extent Han. He had been willing to die for freedom once. Why not now?

 _You are still the same old fool_ , he reminded himself, thinking back to what he had told Soruna earlier. A string of images filled his mind—memories of hard-fought battles alongside his late friends, the Jedi Luke Skywalker, and countless unnamed rebels. He allowed them to surface, to hearten him and strengthen his spirit.

"How as the ceremony?" he asked abruptly.

The holoprojection couldn't mask the sorrow now etched on Soruna's projected face and Lando found himself longing to be with her, to cup her face in his hand and gently stroke her cheek.

He saw her take a breath before answering. "Every bit that Leia deserved, and yet, still not enough."

He nodded. They sat there in silence for another moment. "Soruna," he started.

"Think about it Lando," she said. Then the transmission ended. Lando's eyes lingered on the spot where the hologram had been, his mind on the single tear that had crept into the corner of the queen's eye. And now he imagined it gently sliding down her cheek—a sight she couldn't allow him to see.

— — —

Ren stood quietly in the middle of the room with his eyes closed, reaching out with his senses. Searching. Feeling.

He hadn't left his chambers since ordering the _Scourge_ be shot down. And even though Hux had reported the craft destroyed and its remains—including everyone on board—incinerated from improper reentry into Batuu's atmosphere, Ren felt the need to be sure. He focused his attention, moving past the endless sea of energies that galaxy offered up. But the one he sought couldn't be found.

 _Good_ , he thought to himself as he withdrew. That was one less distraction.

A familiar tingle crept up in the corner of his mind, and for a brief moment he thought it might be a taunting reply. He flinched, then relaxed. He slowly opened his eyes and saw Rey, her head tilted down as she worked on an object in her hands. He didn't have to look to confirm it was the lightsaber.

She paused, no doubt aware of his presence, but didn't look up.

"I see you found the journal," Ren said.

"Despite your best efforts," she replied, her attention still focused on the weapon. He glanced at her hands, mildly curious to know how damaged the blade was and what she was doing to repair it. But the pronounced energy surrounding her drew his eyes back up. She wore the same hardened look as their last communication through the Force, and yet—something was different. A cloud hung over her, that much he could perceive. It wasn't anger nor was it hate. Sorrow, perhaps? Grief?

"What happened?" he asked, surprised at his own question.

Rey dropped her hands and looked up then. Ren searched her eyes, looking for any secrets that may need to be uncovered. But if she were hiding anything, it wasn't there. The low, dangerous tone of her voice seemed to carry everything.

"As if you didn't know," she said. "Can't help imagine it was under your order."

Ren tried to puzzle out her meaning without revealing his confusion. Was this something to do with Leia? Had something happened while taking off from Batuu? No, the fleet hadn't even been in range at that point, and she was off planet by the time the Knights arrived.

"There's a difference between letting the past die and openly slaughtering it," Rey said, interrupting his thoughts. "Han. Luke. Leia—"

"I didn't kill Leia."

"Not outright, no," Rey said fixing her eyes on him. "But every callous act in pursuit of power served as a reminder that her son was gone, ate away at her. She died knowing there was no saving you."

Ren swallowed, ignoring the faint urge to clench his fist. Her words cut deep, deeper than he expected. But he wouldn't let her know what affect they had on him.

"Maz's death confirmed it for me," Rey said. She was no longer looking at him. Her gaze had shifted elsewhere, somewhere far off and distant.

Ren tried to piece everything the woman had said together, but he couldn't get pass the irritation he felt at her implication that he killed his mother. _But you wanted to_ , came a voice from within. _You almost did._

This much was true.

"I sensed the conflict in you. I still do," Rey said, her eyes once again on the lightsaber in her hand. "And as much as I want to believe you haven't made your choice, it's clear to me that you have."

She locked eyes with Ren once more. He half expected to find himself on the receiving end of a cold, deadly stare. But there was not a glint of malice in her gaze or even a drop of hate. Nor was there any sadness or pity. Instead, her eyes reflected only a quiet sense of calm.

"Regrettably, it's the wrong one."

And then she was gone.


End file.
